


On the Outside Looking In

by ShhImWriting



Series: The Hatchetfield Anomaly [1]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, Nightmare Time - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: (decent) Hatchetfield citizens say ACAB, And they were soulmates, Autistic Hannah Foster, Autistic Paul Matthews, Becky doesn't work for Saint Damien's in this AU, Can you tell I would die for Paulkins?, Colonel Shaeffer's first name is June, Emma has ADHD, Erasure from reality, Ethan is Dyslexic and Has ADHD, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fuck Sam, Hannah is a precious bean, Hatchetfield is screwed, Hidgens is still crazy, Hopefully that doesn't get too confusing, Implied Sexual Content, It has action, Its disgusting honestly, Its kinda complex, Jane's already dead...kinda, M/M, Multi, Oh My God, PEIP may or may not be untrustworthy, Paul is in so much love with Emma, Shipwrecked References, Someone Hug Paul Matthews Please, Suspense, TCB References, The Black and White (Black Friday), The Hive - Freeform, There will be fluff, They all need hugs, They were soulmates, Time Skips, Tom's a former PEIP agent, Tom/Becky will be minor, We love emma therefore she must suffer, We love paul and therefore he must suffer, and a whole lotta angst, ethan is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 46
Words: 261,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShhImWriting/pseuds/ShhImWriting
Summary: There are many realities. All being watched by eldritch forces beyond imagining. There is one reality in particular that remains at the center of their focus.This is the ONLY reality that contains the tiny town of Hatchetfield.These powerful beings view this town as their own personal chessboard, seeing how many times they can bring about the end. Apocalypse after armaggedon, Hatchetfield always finds itself resetting at a fixed point in time. Without fail.However, if a person dies in close proximity to a tear in the dimensional fabric, their soul merges with a dimension between realities, outside of the reaches of time and space. And once the world resets... it's like they never existed to the outside world.They call it the Black and White.And Paul Matthews has just found himself a prisoner within it.
Relationships: Becky Barnes/Tom Houston, Lex Foster/Ethan Green, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins, Tom Houston/Jane Perkins, Xander Lee/John McNamara
Series: The Hatchetfield Anomaly [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936342
Comments: 776
Kudos: 158





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please be nice, this is my first fic! I really hope you like it. If there are any trigger warnings, I'll be careful to mention them in the notes by chapter and add them to the tags.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a dimension...between realities.  
> And Hatchetfield? It's an anomaly.  
> Anybody ask for a little bit of exposition? Too bad, you're gonna get some.

The universe is constantly expanding.

Constantly moving.

Much like the way a body’s cells are constantly dying off and regenerating, the universe is constantly intertwining its different constituents together. A web of existence that knows no end.

There are many dimensions, but there is _one_ that remains outside of all time and space.

Some people who knew vaguely about it called it the _Twilight Zone_ and capitalized off of the concept, making numerous TV shows in the 1960s that would be considered classics. Some merely enjoyed the concept and moved on. And over time, this dimension between realities fell into the process of myth and legend. Others, like us, who knew the truth, knew that it was something that couldn’t be trifled with.

We decided to call it _the Black and White_.

Within this dimension, one can look into the faces of other realities, see which ones characterize the multiverse. Beings of both horror and benevolence can gaze through the clear windows of the universe and look at the conduct of everyday life. Of evolution.

However, their favorite place to look upon and interact with is a tiny town called Hatchetfield.

Unlike most realities, this town only appears in one reality. Outside of any constant.

Much like the Bermuda triangle in another reality, this town always seems to be the focus of one reality in particular.

Unlike any other realities, the one containing Hatchetfield doesn’t continue on into eternity, nor does it disappear.

The town is targeted and preyed upon by the various eldritch forces that reside within the Black and White, and instead of falling to ruin, much like the realities which fall to forces like Armageddon or the End Times, the reality...in a word, resets.

Much like a cancerous cell, this reality never completely dies. It never falters.

And when the forces of death draw their sickles upon this reality, the reality merely flickers and returns to a fixed moment in time. Trapping its people in an endless cycle of life and death. The inhabitants of this town unwitting pawns in the clutches of malevolence.

Some eldritch forces such as the being of Chaos or the being of Conformal Order believe that this particular reality had never served its purpose in the vast expanse of the universe, and therefore everything must go back to before it went wrong. Therefore, they set out to write the wrong through their cruel gestures.

Others like the being of Whispers believe that certain beings were blessed with the gift to look between the realities rather than be watched by those within the Black and White Everyone knew of a few beings who could do such- A pair of young teenage sisters as an example- and they believed that such a gift was an abomination of the universe, and therefore the constant resetting of the reality was punishment for it.

Whatever the reason for Hatchetfield’s unique case, the forces within the Black and White liked to view the town as their own personal chessboard. A game in which they would always win, changing each scenario to fit how they thought the world could be.

Regardless of how powerful each individual being was, they were still _not Gods_ , and whatever rein they had on the somewhat innocent world had to come to an end with every reset. That never made their favorite game any less fun.

And so, I say this to you, as we draw further into the plight of Hatchetfield, the inevitability of each citizen's miserable fate, is not one to bemoan, and it is not one to rejoice in either.

The basis of Hatchetfield’s problem was solely in the fact that most went to sleep not knowing if tomorrow would come, or yesterday.

But maybe...just maybe...tomorrow could -for once- be inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the prologue seems a little like word-vomit, I promise it'll be more exciting in the future chapters.  
> This is my first fic so I really hope you like it!  
> If you would like, please leave a comment or kudos, I would greatly appreciate it!  
> Thank you so much for reading my Rod Sterling wannabe monologuing!! :D
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	2. Not How We Thought Today Would Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul Matthews wasn't expecting an apocalypse today...

Reset: No. 5

Date: February 21st, 2021

Being of Oblivion

Paul hadn’t thought his day would have gone like this. 

His life, for the first time in _years_ , was happy. 

He was _living_ , not just existing... 

If you had asked him a couple of years ago if he was happy, he wouldn’t have been able to give you a straight answer, but now...he was better than he had ever been in his thirty years of life. 

To most, he lived the life of every average joe. An IT nerd with an okay-paying office job, and an affinity for black coffee. But to himself, he was living his happiest life. 

He owed a lot of that to Emma. 

The two had met at the coffee shop he’d started to frequent when the Starbucks across the street had to undergo repairs. To most, the two seemed completely different with no reason to fall in love. The first being a 6’4 plain man with one of the least interesting lives that would not do him any good when looking for a potential partner. The second being a 5’3, exhausted barista, who was majoring in botany so she could grow weed, and scared off most people she interacted with. However, somehow, the two had clicked quickly and fallen for one another long before they’d cared to even admit it to themselves, much less one another. 

Now, they shared a small, two-bedroom home together, but most importantly, they shared one another’s time, happiness, sorrows, and love.

  
His routine was simple but never mundane...

  * 5:30 AM- Wake up to kiss Emma good morning and goodbye before she goes to her morning shift at Beanies. Sleep for another hour and thirty minutes.
  * 7:00 AM- Wake up and check litterbox and Socks' food and water bowls 
  * 7:10 AM- Shower
  * 7:30 AM- Get dressed 
  * 7:45 AM- Go to work
  * 8:00 AM- Check email upon arrival at CCRP
  * 8:10-9:45 AM- Avoid Ted and get as much work done without being distracted
  * 9:45 AM- Take a break and get a Black Coffee from Beanies (avoid Greenpeace Girl on the way)
  * 10:00-11:00 AM- Avoid Ted some more
  * 11:00 AM- Take a lunch break and meet Emma for lunch- ideally get some awful flirting and complaining about coworkers in
  * 11:45- 5:00 PM- Finish up work
  * 5:00 PM- Head home 
  * 5:20-7:00 PM: Think of something to fix for dinner and cook before Emma gets home
  * 7:30 PM: Emma gets home from classes and eat dinner
  * 8:00-?? PM: Find something to pass time (study, watch TV, cuddle with Socks) until they get tired and go to sleep
  * Repeat the next morning



They’d been dating for over three years and fallen into a comfortable routine since moving in with one another. They’d even adopted a kitten together over a year ago (which they’d affectionately named Socks). 

He’d been extremely nervous to ask her to move in with him. His house was small but comfy, and Emma’s lease on her shoebox of an apartment had nearly been over. He’d stammered over every other word when he’d asked her, but she’d quickly gotten the message and kissed him deeply, giving him a very clear yes for an answer. 

Of course, that didn’t mean that _everything_ was perfect. There were still moments when she’d get stressed, overwork herself, and snap every so often. Or times when he’d be so overwhelmed and break down as a result of a sensory overload. It had taken only a short while for them to figure out how to best comfort the other in their time of need. And being human, they both fell victim to stress often. Still, Emma was his _person_ and she made every moment worthwhile. 

She’d taught him how to truly _live._ And in spite of their regularity within their schedules, they were happy. 

No moment was dull. Not a single second felt wasted. Every day he would go to work looking forward to seeing her at Beanies, and later at _their_ home. Every day he got to wake up next to her was a happy day, a day where he felt like he could walk through the air without any fear of heights. 

As Emma walked him back to CCRP technical after an amazing lunch at the nearby cafe, he could only look down at her, in all her feisty, tiny glory (currently ranting about a new tipping policy that involved singing), and smile. How he’d been lucky enough to meet someone like her was beyond him. _God_ , he loved her so much. She was absolutely everything to him, and he wanted nothing more than to be with her for the rest of his life. 

“...and of course, Zoey takes Nora’s side!” Emma was saying, her indignance incredibly adorable to him, even though it frightened most, “So then _of course_ we end up doing the singing thing for this...what?”

He blushed when he realized she’d noticed his dopey grin.

She smirked up at him, which probably wasn’t good for her neck seeing as there was an over-a-foot height difference between the two, “Earth to nerd? Ya with me, buddy?” 

He laughed, “Oh? N-Nothing…” He stammered, amazed that even two years after being with her, he still got butterflies in his stomach and stammered like a teenager with a barely-concealed crush, “I just...think you’re really cute when you complain about them.”

She smirked coyly, “Oh?” she said, a teasing look in her beautiful brown eyes, “Are you sure that’s it?” 

She stopped in front of him, looking up at him expectantly. He got the message and smirked, the teasing growing infectious, “And then, of course, there's the fact that you...you’re absolutely gorgeous…” he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, “...smart,” her nose, “and the meanest woman I’ve ever met.” 

She let out a small chuckle and murmured as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her level, “I prefer supermegafoxyawesomehot….but damn straight.”

Finally, he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, before whispering, “Have fun dealing with them for another hour.”

She rolled her eyes, a retort growing on her tongue “Have fun trying to ignore Ted for another few hours.” 

He rolled his eyes teasingly before kissing her again. Before the aforementioned office jerk interrupted their moment. 

“ _Hey, Lovebirds! Get your tongues out of one another’s throats and go home!_ ” 

Emma rolled her eyes and turned around, clearly annoyed with Ted before she saw that he actually looked panicked in spite of his usual schmuck-like behavior. 

Paul immediately noticed the tension in his usually (annoyingly) relaxed shoulders and dumbly asked, “What?”

Ted rolled his eyes, letting out a slight snort “Did you not hear me? Go home.” 

“Why?” Emma asked, still annoyed with Ted, but recognizing that he had some legitimate fear in his stance. 

Ted rolled his eyes again and muttered something unintelligible, before sighing, “There’s an emergency broadcast and Davidson is sending everyone home.” He said this like it was obvious, “Go home, you useless noodle.” 

Paul couldn’t care less about the nickname, but was extremely confused, even as Ted disappeared into the parking lot. 

In a flurry of movement, Charlotte, Mr. Davidson, Bill, and Melissa all filed out of the building, relaying the same information, worry in their stances, much to the couple’s extreme confusion. Soon, Emma’s phone dinged with a notification from Nora telling her to head home as well. 

“Welp,” Emma shrugged as the cars began to disappear from the parking lot, “I guess Socks gets more cuddle time?”

Less than an hour had passed before things had started to spiral out of control. 

First, Melissa, who’d been face-timing the two of them from her apartment, had lost power in her apartment building and had disappeared from the camera. For a moment, the two of them had thought she’d gone to the breaker to fix whatever she could, but when nearly thirty minutes had passed, and Emma’s laptop was nearly out of battery, they quickly grew more and more concerned. 

Then, Bill had called Paul less than an hour later, crying frantically. The only words the two of them could get coherently out of him were the words “Alice” and “gone”. Then, much like Melissa, the call ended suddenly. 

In a panic, Emma had scooped up Socks from where he was pawing at her feet and quickly called Professor Hidgens. While Paul had never truly understood their dynamic, he trusted Emma above all else, and if the kooky professor was the one who would be able to understand, then he trusted her judgment. 

Within moments, Emma had gotten off the phone and was pulling him towards the door, offering only a hurried, “He wants us over there” as an explanation. He’d merely nodded and taken Socks from her arms, clutching the cat like a lifeline, as he was unsure of what to do. 

Hatchetfield was not known for having a population that took crises so well. This is why it was no surprise to them that they saw several people walking around alone without any lights, wandering about the streets like it was nothing.

For a moment, Paul was sure that the broadcast was a false alarm…

...until they saw a teenager on a skateboard fall into the ground, swallowed up by what looked like a shadow. Almost immediately, the shadow cast by the buildings in front of them grew and _moved_. They resembled an almost malignant monster, reaching out for more walkers, swallowing them quickly. 

At first, he thought it was his lack of sleep, or anxiety meds playing tricks on his mind again. Maybe he was just seeing things that weren’t there. 

One look at Emma, who was clutching the steering wheel of their car with white knuckles and wide eyes disproved that. 

They’d driven over to Hidgen’s house in a frenzy, trying to avoid the monstrous shadows, which swallowed up more and more as time went on, looking more like _people_ with more things that they’d swallowed. By the time they’d gotten to Hidgens’ house, they’d been speeding down the nearly deserted roads, being chased by the shadows which pursued them like a hungry predator. 

Hidgens had let them in quickly and had explained that he’d theorized the scenario thirty years before, but Emma had cut him off, not wanting an explanation. 

So there they were, in Hidgens' basement, which was lined wall to wall with reflective light paneling. 

Definitely not how he’d imagined the day going. 

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. People were getting _swallowed_ and disappearing off to God only knew where. Something told him that Bill, Alice, and Melissa were all already gone. The thought was sickening. Emma leaned her head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand comfortingly, in spite of the fear that was inherent in the room. 

In just a few short hours, their lives had gone from perfectly imperfect to a horror movie they wanted nothing else but to get out of. 

Hidgens was barring the doors, hollering at the Alexa to divert all power that they had to the lights, trying to minimize as much shadow as they could. 

It hadn’t been enough. 

Within two hours of their being there, the shadows had taken the nearly physical forms of humans, capable of swallowing so much more and destruction beyond imagination. 

To put it simply, they were breaking down the doors. 

“ _Paul!”_ Emma screamed, “ _We have to get out of here.”_

In his arms, Socks yowled in agreement. 

Hidgens had run off to the side and was desperately trying to open a side door, “Help me here, Emma!” He shouted, snapping Paul to his senses as he wanted and tried to help Hidgens pry the door open with one hand, trying to keep the scrambling cat still in his other. 

Just as the doors broke open, they managed to pull the door open and slammed it closed behind them, being met by more blinding light. 

“That door won’t hold these shadow’s forever,” Hidgens said, fear evident in his voice, despite Paul’s belief that fear wasn’t something the much older man was capable of, “I’ve got a safe room with plenty of light just past this room.”

He began to hastily lead them across the massive room, which held only what looked like a control panel and a weird metallic structure in the shape of a circle, to which they paid no mind seeing as how they were being chased by the literal apocalypse. 

“This way!” Hidgen’s shouted, clutching the barrel of his shotgun like it was the only thing keeping him sane. 

Emma clutched Paul’s free hand, her eyes wide with terror as they followed Hidgens, their frantic breathing the only thing that distracted them from the sounds of crashing behind them. 

As they met Hidgens on the other side of the room, Emma helped him attempt to wrestle the door open. Paul, meanwhile, was trying to keep Socks calm, anxiously looking back to the door, which was getting more and more dented as time went on. 

“Ah, victory!” Hidgen’s exclaimed as the door swung open. At that exact same moment, Socks had scrambled from Paul's grasp and scampered back to the other side of the room. 

“Socks!” Emma exclaimed, ready to rush back for him before Paul stopped her. 

“I’ll get him!” He shouted, “Follow Hidgens!” 

“Hurry!” She screamed pleadingly, desperation in her voice. 

Socks, the confused, but extremely fast cat, had managed to make it all the way to the metallic structure, his fear clearly guiding him. As Paul scrambled after him, the roaring of the shadows became louder and the door was nearly broken in. 

“Socks, come here buddy!” He shouted imploringly as he lunged and caught the small grey tabby in his arms. The cat whimpered and pawed desperately at his arms.

“ _Paul, hurry!”_ Emma shouted, holding the door open as he began to sprint across the massive room. Socks mewling loudly in his arms. 

The sound of a metallic clank was all Paul needed to know that the door had been broken down. 

His mind was suddenly unable to make coherent thoughts as he ran across the room. The roar of the growing shadows was deafening. Adrenaline was all he had that was keeping him moving. 

Suddenly, there was the sound of something other than a crash. Something that sounded like machinery activating, a flash of green was added to the room and he had to resist the urge to look back. Emma’s eyes, which had been watching him with a terror he never wanted to see on her face again, widened and she let out a cry which sounded vaguely like his name. 

He ran as fast as he could and was able to quickly pass Socks into her arms, “Take him! I’ll help Hidgens with the-” 

He didn’t get to finish as he was pulled back extremely fast, his back slamming into the control panel, which was _too_ far away from the door. 

“ _PAUL!!”_ Emma screamed viscerally, tears pouring from her terrified eyes. 

His vision spun, the pain exploding in his back. He wagered a drowsy, pain-filled glance back at the walls, where the shadows were creeping quickly towards him. The green light was coming from the structure which was flashing menacingly, making Paul’s blood run cold. 

He tried to crawl forward in spite of the pain, but was thrown back, pulled against the panel, like a magnet, his back slamming painfully against the metal again. He gasped for air as his lungs were suddenly emptied. He could feel warm blood soaking through the fabric of his work shirt. 

“ _EMMA, I’VE GOT TO CLOSE THE DOOR!!”_ Hidgens was shouting, trying to keep a desperate Emma from going after him, her hands desperately trying to peel away the old man’s surprisingly strong arms from her. 

Emma’s screams were muted against the roar of both the machine and the shadows which were approaching quickly. 

It was then that he realized that he was being pulled _towards_ the giant circle.

Everything _hurt_. As he gasped for air, he could only see Emma. Her pleading brown eyes, puffy with tears as she fought against Hidgens’ grasp. He scrambled to grab onto the side of the control panel to keep himself from flying into the circular structure, his eyes never leaving her. With a sickening thud in his stomach, he realized that this would be the last time he would ever see the love of his life. 

It was then that he lost his grip, and he was flying away from them before he knew what was happening. 

He could barely process what was happening as he flew into the center of the circular structure, and darkness enveloped him, his own screams getting lost to the void. 

He could barely hear Emma’s screams of anguish as he was pulled into the whirlpool of energy. This was accompanied by the deafening slam of the heavy metal door that Hidgens had abruptly pulled shut. 

This was it. This was how he was going to die.

At least Emma was safe...for now.

_Emma, I’m sorry,_ was his only thought as he lost consciousness and waited for death’s embrace.

\---

“He like us?” A voice said. Young, with a hint of an accent, maybe? He wasn’t sure.

“Yes, I think so.” A much older, more official voice whispered, “I think I knew him in the first one…”

“Poor fella.” The young voice said again, “He got a mate like us?” 

“We’ve watched them for the past three...they found one another each time...so, yes.” 

“D’ya think he can help us?”

“I can’t say that, son. _We_ couldn’t even help ourselves.” 

“Wait, Johnny,” The young voice said, unsure suddenly, “I think he’s wakin’ up.” 

Paul’s eyes shot open and he was met by an infinite sea of blackness. 

As if pulled by a string, he sat up, gasping for air. 

“Em...Emma?” He stammered in between his gasps. 

Instead of Emma, he found two men.

The first couldn’t have been older than nineteen. His black curly hair was slicked back like he was a character from _The Outsiders_ , and his blue eyes searched Paul quizzically. He wore a black leather jacket, along with a dirty grey flannel that was tied around his waist. He had a piercing in his right ear and could have easily passed for a member of a grunge boy band...or something Paul would have definitely listened to when he was this kid’s age. He would have probably been relaxed by this kid’s lackadaisical attitude, had it not been for the blood which stained his shirt and dried to his forehead, matting down some of the curls. 

“Hey...Hey, mister, you okay?” The boy asked, extending a motorcycle-gloved hand, the cutoff exposing chipped black nail polish, towards Paul, as if to help him up. 

Paul answered him with a cough, trying desperately to breathe normally. 

_Where am I? Where’s Emma? What happened with the…_

He suddenly remembered, the flash of green, the swirling of light, the shadows desperate to devour him. His heart rate thudded in his ears like a cacophony of drums.  
He winced at the memory of pain in his back and ribs and was surprised to realize he felt no pain at all. 

The second man was perhaps only a few years older than Paul and studied him intently. His hawk-like green eyes staring Paul down. He wore something that resembled a SWAT uniform, and a beret, which seemingly kept his shoulder-length, wavy red hair out of his face. Under his gaze, Paul suddenly felt very self-conscious and tried to get a hold of himself. 

“It’s okay, buddy,” the teenager spoke again, “It takes a while to get used to.”

Paul opened his mouth and tried to speak, but only a few rasping barks left his throat.

The older man clapped him on the back, “Breathe with me, son.” 

“Wh-” he choked on the words, “Whe-re’s Emm...Emma?” Her frightened face flashed in his mind, making his heart clench painfully.

The teenager stifled a small laugh, earning a stern look from the older man, “What? He’s the one who _died,_ and he’s askin’ abou-”

“ _What!?_ ” Paul said, his voice rising in pitch. 

_I died? I can’t be dead. I’m breathing! I can definitely feel my heart going faster than what’s probably healthy! Where am I? Why can’t I see-_

The older man sighed, placing a hand on Paul’s shoulder, which he _did not_ like before his anxieties ran away with him. 

“Son,” the man began carefully, “Myself and Ethan here, can explain everything to you, but we need you to calm down for us. Can you do that?” 

Paul managed a terse nod before beginning to tap his knuckles together, the repetitive motion soothing in a way. 

“Okay…okay…okay” he murmured, repeating it like a mantra, “Okay...calm...yeah, I can do that...okay.” 

The man clapped him on the back again, “That’s it, son, just calm down...you’ve had one hell of a day.”

The teenager- _Ethan-_ snickered, “That's putting it nicely.” 

Paul inhaled and exhaled sharply, warding off any panic attacks that threatened him, “Wh-who are you?” He stammered, “Where- what is this place...where...where’s _Emma?”_

The man sighed, his eyes glancing over at the teenager with an almost...guilty gaze, “Son, what’s your name?”

Paul looked up at him, “P-Paul.” 

The man nodded, “Good, you still know _who_ you are.”

Paul raised an eyebrow, stumbling over his words as he tried to get his shaking hands under control, “Y-you..d-didn’t answer my quest-question.”

The man nodded, responding in an almost-scripted manner “Good evening, Paul, my name is General John MacNamara, formerly of the U.S. Military...special unit P.E.I.P- we call it PEIP.”

“PEIP?” Paul asked, his confusion providing some stability to his words, “I’ve never heard of you…”

“Please!” The teenager begged Paul suddenly, desperation in his voice, “Don’t respond, he’ll only give you a really baaaaad pun!”

All Paul could do was blink in response.

“As I was saying…” the General huffed, clearly disappointed at not being allowed to continue with a pun, “My name is General John MacNamara. That young man is Ethan Green...and we’re all trapped in this space between dimensions.”

Paul didn’t even have a response as he went over the words again in his head. 

“Welcome,” the General went on, a small hint of sadness in his voice, “To the Black and White.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Pauls only *mostly* dead.  
> Welcome to the Black and White, I hope you enjoy your stay.  
> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you desire to do so! I would love feedback!  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	3. Take Me Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul gets to know his new home and experiences a few panic attacks.  
> This one is very long and kinda brutal. Sorry :/
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Panic attacks, car-crash, parental death, gore, graphic descriptions of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna make these chapter titles based off of songs and lyrics. This one is obviously from "Take Me Back" from Black Friday (an absolute bop).

_What. The. Hell._

That was all that was running through Paul's mind as he took the empty space of blackness that surrounded them, characterized only by himself, John, and Ethan. 

“I think he’s takin’ it well, Johnny!” Ethan piped up, a small grin growing across his smug face. 

Paul most certainly was not taking _this_ well.

His mind was racing, his heart pounding, and his hands were ceaselessly beating against one another as he tried to get a handle on how he felt. Still, in spite of his endless questions that were raging within his brain, he was able to get barely half of a coherent question out.

“Where exactly ar…”

“Everywhere and nowhere, my boy,” John answered grimly. 

Ethan let out another chuckle, “Mister, we’re basically in a dimension between all the possible realities in the galaxy-”

“Universe.” John corrected, sounding like he’d done it a thousand times before.

“ _In the universe,_ ” Ethan amended, “And essentially we got stuck here.”

“H-how?” Paul managed to choke out.

“Simple.” Ethan said like it was nothing, “You died.”

At Paul's vacant expression John let out a sigh, “ _Ethan_ died to get here. Hence the blood.” he gestured at the dried blood on Ethan’s shirt and face. 

The boy grinned, “Yeah, some psychos at the mall kicked me to death over a doll!”

He sounded way too enthusiastic about his own death. Paul decided against questioning it, as he figured that if he was going to be in there for a while, he was probably going to hear about it eventually. 

John didn’t look so amused, “I on the other hand,” he went on, “Sent someone in here on a diplomatic mission...it went south and-”

“He had to save him,” Ethan interrupted, “He went in without a suit and his soul merged with this void...like mine.” 

John sighed again before nodding, “Yes...but you, Paul...you’re kind of the middle ground between me and Ethan.”

Paul didn’t want to ask how, but he got an answer anyway.

“Your body was already being torn apart in damage done by the portal’s activation...”

“Portal?” Paul asked.

“Yes, in the possession of Professor Henry Hidgens.” John clarified, “Your body sustained a great deal of damage, such as several broken and bruised ribs, a bruised spine...etcetera… but the portal also pulled you -still alive- into the black and white. Now, had you died before being pulled in, your soul would have still merged with us anyway, due to the close proximity to such a tear in the dimensional fabric but…”

“W-wait...so...I’m dead?” Paul asked, still unsure of the answer. 

Ethan hesitated, “Y-yes and no.”

“Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?!?” Paul exclaimed, still trying to keep calm, in spite of the panic welling up inside his chest, another question burst into his mind, causing his heart rate to rise, “What about Emma?” He asked, his fear cutting into his voice. 

John and Ethan looked at one another with grim expressions. 

“D-did she get away fro-from those _things_?” Paul asked desperately. He needed to know if she was okay. 

“See for yourself, son,” John said quietly.

He waved his hand out towards the darkness and suddenly, there was a window of bright light in front of them. 

“What’s…” 

“It’s like a doorway...into the reality where Hatchetfield exists,” Ethan said, his voice grave and sad, “And it’s…”

“It’s what?” 

“It’s hard to look at.” Ethan decided on, biting his lower lip “And we’ll explain why...but I suggest you look before this reality starts to fade and it resets.”

“How did he do that?” Paul asked, trying very hard not to let anxiety overtake his voice.

Ethan shrugged, “After a while, ya start to be able to see whatcha wanna see. Manipulate these windows, see moments in time, memories ya want to see again...the whole shebang. Just now, he drew up a window connected to the Hatchetfield reality”

Paul hummed in acknowledgment, not really knowing what else to say. Part of him begged his mind to believe this was a fever dream, that nothing was real and he’d wake up beside Emma any moment now. But part of him knew his subconscious wasn’t that creative, and there’s no way he’d be able to imagine any of this at all. But it didn’t matter. His only concern at the moment was Emma. 

Paul stood, with the assistance of Ethan, his mind only on Emma, and he peered through the blinding white light…

_In less than a second, he found himself standing in one of the rooms of Hidgens’ basement. It was one he’d never seen, and he could only assume that it was the destination that he’d...he’d never made it to._

_He immediately recognized the form of Hidgens slumped against the door, pushing against it, muttering curses under his breath. He tried to reach out for the old man but was met with no response or reaction._

_“They can’t see or hear you, son.” John said as he appeared right next to him, “I had to figure this out the hard way...but no matter how hard you try...they can’t...just remember that.”_

_Paul nodded, not really comprehending the words, he was too desperate to find…_

_He saw her._

_Oh,_ God. 

_She was hunched over, against the far wall, somehow looking so much smaller than normal, and maintaining a thirty-yard stare at nothing. Her beautiful brown eyes were puffy and tears fell constantly from her eyes. In her arms she held Socks, who had curled up against her, his green eyes caught in a sad gaze._ _  
__She trembled as her evident grief ran its course through her. Her devastated gaze caught solely on the door as she seemingly awaited the inevitable._

_Paul fell to his knees in front of her._

“E-Emma?” _he asked...his own eyes not believing that it was truly her he was looking. Her eyes were filled with so much_ defeat. _Something that he’d never seen on her face before, not even on the anniversary of Jane’s death._

_Hidgens was shouting something as the door was getting beaten upon by the shadow monsters._

_Paul immediately knew what was going to happen._

_“Em, baby, you’ve got to run,” he tried to say to her, being met by no reaction “You’ve got to go, please” He begged her, only being met a sharp inhale as the tears fell faster._

_He was getting desperate again, he couldn’t watch her...he couldn’t watch her die…_

_“Can’t we do something?!” He shouted at John, the desperate plea making his voice crack._

_John shook his head, “I’m sorry, son.”_

No. _He couldn’t believe that._

_“Emma...please!” He begged her, “Please, you need to run...you can’t-Oh, God, please…”_

_He tried to cup her face, but his hands only phased through._

_It was then that the doors broke, and he turned around to see the shadows, their path becoming like a tsunami, swallowing Hidgens. He turned back to Emma only able to look at her for a moment before she closed her eyes as the darkness took her too._

Suddenly he was back in the endless void of blackness. 

Anguish clawed at his heart, he fell to the ground, a wail building up in his throat. 

_Emma was dead._

Ethan and John dropped in front of him. He didn’t care how pathetic he looked, not when he’d just witnessed the love of his life die right in front of him. His heart felt as cavernous as Emma’s eyes had looked. 

“Son,” John whispered gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“St-stop.” Paul murmured, wiping away at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. 

“Mister,” Ethan said, his voice gentle “Ya need to look.” He gestured a gloved hand at the still-white window.

Reluctantly, he looked.

In his vision, blurred by tears, he could make out the blindingly white rectangle which he had stepped through to get to Hidgens’ house, again, but for a second...it _changed._

It was almost like television static. The shades of black and white merging together for only a second before reverting back to white. 

“W-what was…” Paul started. 

“That, my boy,” John said, an almost disappointed sigh in his words, “Was a reset.”

“A reset?” 

Ethan nodded, “We’re gonna go in again, you can come with...if you want.” 

“It would make...all of this...” John gestured to the sea of darkness that enveloped them, “...easier to understand.”

“We need to check to see if the reset point is the same.” Ethan clarified, looking at Paul with only a hint of concern in his observant blue eyes. 

“Reset point?” Paul asked, not caring how clueless he sounded, only half-focused on the words coming out of his possibly hallucinated companion’s mouths. 

John nodded, “A fixed point in time, where Hatchetfield reverts back to, without fail. I’ll explain more after you see it, son.” His gaze softened, “But if it’s all too much, you don’t have to.” 

Paul shook his head, “I don’t...I don’t want to be alone...just give me a second.”

They both nodded sympathetically and gave him a few seconds to collect himself. The overwhelming pain at witnessing Emma’s death and the fear of his current state was crashing over him in brutal tidal waves, threatening to drag him under. He rubbed his knuckles together, threatening to peel the skin right off, murmuring more than one “okay” to himself quietly. 

It was all so much to take in.

Somehow he’d gone from being a normal, average IT worker, for a dead-end technical company, to someone who’d witnessed the death of the person he loved most in this world from a space between the reality he’d known. On top of that, the only people who knew slightly what was going on was a man from an obscure military branch and a kid who was excited about the fact that he’d been brutally murdered. 

_He wanted Emma back. He wanted their little house back. He wanted their little brat of a cat back._

_He missed Emma so much._

He winced at the thought of her again, trying to push the new memory into the far reaches of his mind. 

After a few more moments, Paul wiped his tears. He had no idea what was happening, but he figured that understanding even the slightest detail would help him be distracted from the fact that Emma wasn’t there.

Reluctantly, he stood, his legs still shaky with emotion and fear. John gestured to the doorway, and all three stepped through it once more. 

_This time, instead of being in Hidgens’ basement. They were on one of the few service roads in Hatchetfield. The one by the seaside cliffs. He and Emma drove past this particular spot around Christmas time every year. Sometimes they’d leave flowers at a small brick marker they’d left on the side of the road to mark the spot._

_“It's always right here,” Ethan said, his voice cryptic and sad._

_“Every damn time,” John muttered in disbelief._

_The smell of smoke and blood hit him quickly and he turned around._

_A minivan had overturned on the side of the road. It had been t-boned by another white car- an SUV, from the looks of it- and was now laying on the side of the road like a dead animal._

_There was the sound of scraping metal, as the form of a burly man, scrambled out from the overturned vehicle. The man's light brown curly hair was matted down with blood from a small, superficial gash on his forehead. He looked dazed and confused, his blue-green eyes scanning the terrain with uncertainty as his shaky arms were scrambling to open the doors that would allow him access to the backseat._

_With a start, Paul recognized Tom Houston. Emma’s brother-in-law._

_Horror washed over him as he realized exactly which moment this was._

_“Tim, buddy, Tim…” Tom was muttering as he pulled a tiny figure crammed in a fetal position out of the car, “It’s okay, daddy’s got you…I’ve got you, buddy.”_

_Paul would have recognized the child anywhere. Between the wild red-brown hair and big brown eyes, so similar to Emma’s, Tim was still easy to remember in spite of being over a year younger than he was when Paul had first met him. The two had quickly hit it off with their shared love of computers and comic books, which they’d nerded-out over under the loving gaze of Emma. They'd both shared a hyper-fixation on computer coding at relatively the same age. Emma had merely laughed and called them her "favorite nerds"._

_Such happy times compared to the tragedy that Paul was watching play out in front of him._

_“J?” Tom called out as he clutched the small, whimpering boy to his chest as his eyes scanned the road frantically before they widened in terror._

_It was then that Paul saw that the passenger seat window was completely shattered, and a third person was laying on the complete opposite side of the road._

_Tom scrambled across the road, still clutching his now crying, frightened son, as he made his way to the delicate figure drenched in blood._

_It was a woman, with tanned skin that was covered in drying blood. Her once bouncy bob of brown curls was matted to the ground and the sides of her head. Her light blue sweater and loose white trench-coat had taken on an ugly rust-like shade, which drew attention to the unnatural dent-like shapes in her abdomen signaling crushed organs and ribs. Her legs and arms were all bent in sickening, unnatural angles, and her chest no longer rose or fell. Her eyes, a once lively and intelligent brown, were open, and lacking any form of life. Some could have easily thought she was an abandoned doll that had been dropped in a bucket of red paint...but it would have been a blissful lie to hide the painful truth. A truth that had made Emma’s personal shame and guilt weigh heavily on her back and on her mind._

_This was Jane Perkins._

_And she was very much dead._

_Paul felt sick to his stomach. He’d been there when Emma, Tom, and Tim had finally talked together as a family about what had happened. Tom and Tim described the hazy and painful memories, which had shaken Emma and him to their cores...but no description could ever match the horror of_ this _._

_Tom had told them that he was grateful she’d died on impact...and now that he was seeing it for himself, he had to agree. He was glad Emma wasn’t there to see it. To see how broken her sister, a woman she’d memorialized as so strong and perfect, to be broken so easily and lack the life that had made her the favorite child._

_The weary figure of Tom had instantly shoved Tim’s head further into his chest, trying to prevent the young boy from seeing his mother like this._

_“Dad…” Tim whimpered, “Where’s Mom?”_

_“Just look away….Jesus, Tim...look away.” Tom cried out, stumbling aimlessly back towards the rubble of the car, looking like he was about to be sick. Tears streamed the war-worn man’s face as he tried to prevent his now-sobbing son from seeing the decimated figure of his mother._

_“Dad?!?!” Tim cried out, desperation filling his small voice, “Where’s Mom?!?! What’s wrong?”_

_The sound of Tim’s crying made Paul's heart ache. The boy deserved so much more than what life had offered him. The few times he and Tim had gotten to know one another, he’d fallen victim time and time again to those big brown eyes and had quickly tried to be the best sorta-Uncle he could be to him._

_The child had been through so much, and he wasn’t even ten!_

_“Every time,” Ethan said, his blue eyes filled with tears, “Every time, John, I swear it gets worse n’ worse.”_

_“What do you mean,_ every time _?” Paul asked, very pointedly trying not to look at the very dead figure of Jane, which looked too much like Emma at the moment. Emma’s look of defeat before she’d been swallowed by shadows still burned into his mind._

_John sighed, “Paul, the thing about Hatchetfield, is that every time it faces an apocalyptic event, the world resets...and it always comes back to this specific point in time.”_

_“Jane’s death?” Paul asked, his own apprehension causing his hands to shake uncontrollably. His voice quivered._

_John quirked an eyebrow, “You knew her?”_

_“She-” Paul started, stammering as the horror of what he was witnessing continued to settle into his mind, ‘She’s- She_ was _Emma’s sister.”_

_John’s eyes widened, and he looked at Ethan, “So it’s true then…”_   
  


The scene disappeared and they were back in the Black and White. 

If at all possible, Paul was even more confused and concerned. 

“What’s true?” He asked, starting to get annoyed, “What does this have to do with Emma and Jane?” 

Ethan looked at John, “So...we were right?”

John nodded, his green eyes wide with an emotion Paul couldn’t quite read. 

“Is someone gonna tell me what the hell is going on?!?” Paul almost shouted, panic seeping into his veins like a drug. 

John looked at him, “Emma’s the younger sister, yes?”

Paul nodded, growing uncharacteristically impatient. 

Ethan shook his head, “I’ll be damned…” He turned to Paul, “It always starts with Jane’s death, and ends with Emma’s.”

Paul took a moment to process those words. 

Always? How many times had these so-called “resets” happened? 

John seemingly picked up on his confusion, “What he means is...every time the world resets, the Perkins sisters seem to bookend the realities. Their deaths mark both the beginning and the end…”

“How would you…”

“Listen, mister,” Ethan said, holding out his hands exasperated, “Watchin’ the reality with Hatchetfield is like watchin’...that musical _Hadestown..._ Y’know?” 

Paul shook his head, he couldn’t care less about the musical, and he really couldn’t bring himself to understand its relevance.

Ethan sighed at Paul’s lack of recognition, “You go in thinking that everything will turn out better than last time...that maybe the people you care about can get a happy ending for once...but it never happens.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “And then you have to watch them go about their business like you don’t exist and-”

“ _What?_ ”

Ethan sighed, “Paul, man, _listen_ …” he rolled his eyes, “Everything repeats with different apocalyptic events and there’s nothing you can do-”

“N-No, what you said about-” Paul didn’t want to say the damning words, “About them going on in their lives like we don’t…” 

Ethan paled, realizing his mistake. His eyes darted over to John for help. 

John looked down, swallowing hard, and placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder again. 

“Son,” he said hesitantly, “Because your soul is in the Black and White...the reset occurred...but as far as your loved ones are concerned, you never…”

“I never... what?!?!” Paul pleaded, his eyes growing frantic as he searched the two men’s guilty and grief-contorted expressions.

“As far as Emma and your friends are concerned,” John went on, sadness growing in his eyes, “You never existed.” 

\---

Reset: No. 6

Date: February 20th, 2018

Being Unknown

Emma glanced back up at the crappy digital clock with a sigh. It wasn’t even noon yet. 

She was barely a month into her new job at the crappy coffee shop known as Beanies, and she could already tell that she was going to hate it. Between her vapid and self-important manager, Zoey, and the strict boss with a stick so far up her ass she could probably taste it, called Nora, Emma was sure that she’d rather 

The prospect of aimless working was still a welcome distraction from the grief that was still very much a fresh wound. Thinking of her dead sister made her sick to her stomach. 

She was unsure why she kept looking at the clock. 

It wasn’t like she was waiting for anything or expecting anyone. 

She’d already been yelled at twice. Once for being too slow when making a hot chocolate for a customer, and the second time for accidentally making a black coffee that nobody had ordered. 

Still, she’d grown quickly accustomed to the truth the second she’d stepped back into this godforsaken town. 

She was alone. 

She would always be alone.

And she would never be able to escape Hatchetfield.

As she glanced up at the clock again, only two minutes had passed since she’d last checked. She groaned loudly, happy that her annoying manager was nowhere to be seen, before looking down at the still-hot black coffee, left unclaimed. 

She didn’t know why she’d made it -it was the twenty-first century- nobody drank _just_ black coffee anymore...and if they _did,_ they were either over the age of sixty or a psychopath. But...something about making it had _felt right._ She really didn't know...she could just add cream and sugar to it and drink it on her break. 

And so, all she could do was continue to stare at the clock, waiting for something she couldn’t quite place or remember.

Something that had never existed. 

Something...or _someone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if Jane's death got a little too graphic, I tried to tone it down a little bit.  
> Also, Ethan's probably a bit too enthusiastic about his own death.  
> It's a little slow rn, and I'm sorry if this chapter was looonnng, but I'm planning for it to pick up speed in the next few chapters. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!  
> Once again, if you want to leave comments or kudos, I would greatly appreciate feedback!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	4. Half-Remembered Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is tired. New faces appear. Paul reminisces.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to do a time skip, so this chapter takes place a few months after the last two  
> Also, I'm sorry but this is another long chapter.
> 
> This chapter title is actually the name of an instrumental on the soundtrack from Inception (A really good movie- I would highly recommend if you haven't seen it).

Reset: No. 6

Date: June 31st, 2018

Being Unknown

Emma was tired. Between starting classes at the community college, and her ever exhausting job, she was completely worn down, emotionally, physically, and mentally. 

She glanced at the clock again for the millionth time, it was 11:45...she only had an hour left on her shift before she could go home for once instead of straight to classes. 

Something about today, however, felt _different._

Maybe she needed to smoke something. Maybe she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Maybe it was both. 

But it felt like she was _waiting_ for something to happen.

She hated this new compulsion to stare at the annoying clock on the wall, but it was the only thing that kept her even mildly sane. As the agonizingly slow hours ticked by, the repetitive sound of the clock was pleasing to her ears and provided some kind of noise to distract from the annoyingly _high_ voice of Zoey...who’d taken to practicing vocals in the breakroom and was _very_ good at projection.

They’d had only two customers so far, that same kid with the Hot Chocolate, and a Blonde Karen-looking woman with a _definitely-fake_ nose. She’d spat in the Karen’s drink and merely offered the kid an eye roll when he complained about his blood sugar for the millionth time. 

Still, the feeling of anticipation never ceased, and it was making her antsy. 

She began to fiddle with her fingers, bringing them to pop not-painfully in front of her. Nora had quickly noticed this, got annoyed, and told her to stop. Because Emma’s hair was up in her usual messy bun, held up by an abundance of pins and bands, she couldn't mess with it. Instead, she settled to beat her palms against the counter-top, the repetitive impact feeling nice on her hands. 

Finally, the bell on the door rang and she snapped to attention. 

Two girls, both most likely in their teenage years entered. 

The taller one, probably around eighteen to nineteen years old, looked just about as exhausted as Emma felt. She wore a grey T-Shirt with ripped black jean shorts which seemed to comply with the extreme heat of the Hatchetfield summertime. Her dark eye-makeup was smeared underneath her eyelids, and her tangled dark hair was pulled into a messy ponytail at the back of her head. She kinda reminded Emma of herself when she was that age. 

She held the hand of the younger girl, probably around the age of thirteen, who was shaking slightly and stared at the floor with an almost vacant expression. Her long reddish-brown hair was pulled into two neat plaits that fell past her shoulders and she wore a yellow t-shirt with a pair of jean overalls over it. Despite the hot weather, a yellow flannel was tied around her waist and dangled well past her knees, threatening to trip her at any second. 

Emma put on a weary smile, “Hi...can I help you?” 

The older girl forced a smile that didn’t travel all the way to her eyes. Her voice was slightly raspy when she spoke, “Yeah, can I get just a small black coffee, please…” she knelt down in front of the other girl, her voice turning soft “Banana, what would you like?”

The girl shook her head slightly and continued to stare at the ground. The older girl looked up at Emma apologetically, before whispering to the younger girl, “Hey, let's make today not a bad day, huh? Let's get a treat or something, okay?”

The girl suddenly looked up and saw Emma, her dark eyes widened. 

“Lexi…” she gasped, extending a hand upward towards her, making Emma feel self-conscious. 

“Sorry,” the older girl- Lexi- said, “She does this from time to time…”

“Waiting.” The younger girl said decidedly, “Who are you waiting for?” 

Emma was taken aback by the comment. How did this girl notice that small sense of waiting that had been bugging her all morning? Under the dark gaze of the girl, Emma felt a little exposed, but weird for not responding. 

“Ummm...to be honest, kid, I don’t know…” 

The girl nodded pensively, “That's okay.” she said. 

Lexi looked mortified, her eyes widened, “I’m sorry...she just-”

“Oh n-no!” Emma chimed in, “It’s fine...you have a very perceptive-”

“Sister.” Lexi nodded, grateful that Emma hadn’t done something worse like tell them to bug off. She looked down at the younger girl, “Hannah, do you know what you’d like?” 

Hannah thought for a second before looking back at Emma, “Webby says the banana bread is still good.” 

Emma let out a slight chuckle, flinching at the thought of how long the not-so-new pastry deliveries had been in the display case, “I don’t know how accurate that statement is, kiddo, but two banana bread slices coming right up.” 

“Oh, no, just the one!” Lex said suddenly, as she fished out a five-dollar bill from the small wallet she kept in the pocket of her jeans. Definitely not enough to pay for both their overpriced coffee _and_ even just one slice of their crappy banana bread. Emma suddenly understood.

She leaned in, “These are on the house...believe me, my boss only wants to get rid of them...and if your friend-”

“Webby,” Hannah said decidedly. 

“ _Webby”_ Emma corrected, “Says they’re good...then I guess we can trust their judgment.”

Hannah nodded, “Never wrong.”

Emma said nothing in response and gave Lexi a reassuring smile to ensure that it was okay. It was true, they needed to get rid of the pastries that had occupied the display for far too long. If she’d had something better to offer the kids, she would have done so, even if it would have made Nora blow a fuse. Maybe she was looking for an excuse to get fired. If she hadn’t been desperate for some form of income, she would have quit within the first week of working there. 

As she handed over the two slices of bread and prepared to make a large black coffee instead of the small that was _actually_ ordered. That Lexi girl seemed like she really needed a large dose of caffeine, anyways. 

She snuck a glance back at the sisterly duo, who had taken seats at the mint green bar stools against a somewhat-clean white cafe table. Hannah was silent, while Lexi tried to quietly coax information as to why the day had been bad out of her. Emma turned away, it wasn’t her business, and besides a large group of people were making their way to the door. 

It was a group of four people, two women, and two men...even though for a second she thought...nope that couldn’t be. 

The first man had dark skin and a chiseled jaw, his expression was tired and worried, which was something Emma could relate to on a certain level. His wiry black hair had been neatly cropped back and a bright orange tie brought some color to his otherwise bland plaid shirt. He was ranting to a woman in a pink blouse and brown blazer, with long brown hair and big thick glasses, about someone named Alice and her girlfriend ( _Good for them_ , Emma had thought). 

The second woman wore a pink cat sweater with a dark purple skirt. Her auburn curly hair was neatly placed around her round face, framing her big, turquoise, nervous eyes. She seemed nervous, but offered Emma a slight smile when she entered, before looking over at the small figure of Hannah and smiling almost...mournfully?

The final member of their party was a man who could be described as tall, lanky, and in a single word... _greasy._ His disgusting mustache nearly seemed pasted to his face and matched his greasy, slicked-back hair. His face was contorted into a mocking, almost creepy grin. He looked to be annoyed by the first man's words, and not actually listening. His dark maroon tie was very evidently a clip-on, that was hanging half-off of his shirt which looked to be the color of sand. Not a very tasteful combination. 

As they approached, the greasy man gave her a look that she’d become all too familiar with, and her impatience thudded in her gut; she was about to get hit-on. 

She put on her best fake customer-service smile, which looked more like a pained grimace, and repeated her scripted greeting, “Hi, can I help you?” 

The man leaned up against the counter and smiled. 

“Hiya sweetheart,” _disgusting,_ “Can I get a chai iced tea, and your number?” 

_Oh, so he’s one of those forward types. Gross._

“Will that be all?” She asked, not wanting to prompt anything further from that last part.

“Oh-I’ve got it, Ted,” The first man chimed, “It’s my treat, today!” 

The gross man- Ted- chuckled, “Way to flex on that new promotion, Bill” He turned back to her “Make that a large, sweetheart-also, can I add a carrot-cake pop?” 

The first man- Bill- rolled his eyes and nodded at Emma’s glance, silently asking him if the offer still applied to Ted. 

She nodded, and the woman in the cat sweater stepped up, “Um...may I-um please get a chamomile tea?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Emma said, already worn out from the brief conversation with Ted, “What size would you like?”

She murmured the word “small” and moved back behind Bill. 

The lady in the pink blouse ordered a Caramel Macchiato, and Bill ordered a large iced Caramel Frappuccino. 

She sighed and recounted the orders from memory, “Okay- I’ve got a large chai iced tea with a carrot-cake pop, a small chamomile tea, one medium caramel macchiato, one medium black coffee, and a large caramel frappe, right?” 

Bill looked confused for a moment. Ted snickered loudly from the other side of the counter, waiting impatiently for his drink. 

“Bill...aren’t ya gonna correct her?” 

Emma deeply hated this man she’d encountered for less than three minutes.

“I’m sorry,” she snapped at him, “Did I get something wrong?” 

“Well, you’re tryin’ to add another five bucks to the order…” the man chuckled, “Jeez, the management must have low standards, don’t they?”

Emma didn’t even try to comprehend his sentence, making a mental note to spit in his drink when he wasn’t looking. 

The cat-sweater woman spoke up meekly, “What h-he means, ma’am,” she stammered, looking at Emma as though she might leap over the counter and rip her intestines out, “Is that you accidentally added an extra drink to the order.”

At her confused expression, the sweater woman went on, “I think it was a black coffee…?” 

Across the room, Hannah’s head snapped up. Emma didn’t notice.

Heat rushed to Emma’s face. 

_AGAIN?!_

This was the third time in the past two months alone that she’d almost made a black coffee without anyone ordering one. What was up with this coffee shop?

She murmured her silent apologies and removed the drink from the order and gave Bill the price before she set off to make their drinks. Doing her best to subtly add saliva to the Chai Iced tea. 

She hadn’t noticed Hannah staring at the wall behind her. 

As she handed the drinks off to the group, Hannah and her sister left, muttering their thanks to her as they left. For a second, though, she could have sworn Hannah had waved at the side wall.

Once her shift was over, she walked home, due to her crappy car being out of commission. For whatever reason, she was left feeling a little bit disappointed...like she was still waiting for something. 

As she walked home to her crappy apartment complex, she looked forward solely to flopping down on her bed and taking a nice, long nap. 

And that's just what she did, washing the images of the dark-eyed girl and the disgusting greasy man free from her mind. 

\---

It had been months since he’d somewhat died, and he was still adamant that he did not like it one bit. 

In spite of the months being long, the absence of time in the Black and White made everything pass quickly. 

Paul had grown accustomed to the company of Ethan and John...but the Black and White was still full of so many unpredictable things he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. 

Under John’s instruction, he was quickly able to access moments in time from before he’d died, in the timeline before the reset had happened. 

Sometimes he’d review the memories where he and Emma went to the park together, or when they’d adopted Socks, or when they’d finally moved in together. It still hurt, though. Nothing could quite ease the pain in the knowledge that he’d never get it back again. 

Sometimes in viewing those moments, he was happy...but for the most part, all he felt was pain. 

He knew that John and Ethan must have felt the same. 

The not-quite-dead nineteen-year-old had often opened windows to what Hatchetfield had deemed the present, so he could keep tabs on ‘his girl and her sister’. Because of that, Ethan was never much around, at least, not as much as John was. But hey, time had no meaning in the void that was the Black and White. They had to move through the Black and White often...trying to avoid monsters that John couldn’t even bring himself to describe.

He knew that John had a husband somewhere in or near Hatchetfield, but he could never bring himself to visit him, which was something Paul had never come to expect from the man. They’d gotten to know one another better and Paul would often gush about Emma...how much he missed her.

He visited her often in Hatchetfield’s present when he could muster up the energy to open a doorway. He didn’t want to constantly watch over her...that would be creepy… especially since he...he no longer existed to her. Oftentimes he couldn’t bring himself to see her, knowing that she lived in a world where he didn’t exist and therefore she didn’t _love_ him was torture. He sympathized with John in that regard. 

In spite of being in a dimension outside of time and space, he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that he was now...nonexistent. It was a tough pill to swallow, and most days it felt like it was still lodged in his throat, choking him.

When he wasn’t watching over Emma, or visiting past memories, he looked after Bill and Ted...who still somehow got along okay when he wasn’t there to play mediator. Somehow...he missed their chaotic little office and Ted’s annoying remarks.

This was one of the days he’d spend with them.

Today though, he’d followed Ted, Bill, Charlotte, and Melissa out of the office and down the street to the Starbucks, where he was suddenly struck by a sense of deja vu. 

What day were they experiencing? Bill had just gotten a promotion...Alice had just started dating Deb…

When the group came to the Starbucks and were met with a big “Closed for repairs” sign. He had his answer.

Oh. _Oh._

Okay.

“Well-um...I know a coffee shop that opened a year or two ago down the street,” Melissa suggested, “Maybe we could go there?” 

It was June 31st, 2018. 

Okay.

The day he’d first ordered a coffee from Emma. 

_Okay._

Regardless of every instinct he had screaming at him to return to the Black and White, he followed them down the familiar route and across the street to the rinky-dink coffee shop that he’d come to adore for one reason alone (and it wasn’t because of damn good coffee). 

He knew she’d be working there today. She had to be for everything about that particular day to remain the same. 

Bill was ranting about Deb, as per usual to Melissa, who couldn’t seem to care less. Paul couldn’t pay much attention as he stopped in front of the windows, where he saw her. 

She looked even more tired since last he’d visited her. Exhausted by late-night classes and early shifts, Emma’s eyes could have been mistaken for that of a raccoon. 

Regardless, she was still _so_ goddamn beautiful. He’d thought so since he’d first ordered a coffee from her. Which was right now except...he didn’t exist. 

Just hearing her mutter a pained “Hi, can I help you?” was enough to make tears well in his eyes. He thought back to the time he’d actually told her his name.

_“Hi, can I help you?”_

_“Yeah, I’ve got an easy one for you, just a cup of black coffee.”_

_He’d tipped her then, and she’d begun a long rant about how a customer just before him had gotten onto her about not being ‘grateful’ for a tip and taken it back._

_“I mean_ he _doesn’t have to make coffee for all of these assholes!” she’d exclaimed before recanting her statement, “Oh...n-not that you’re an asshole...well maybe you are, what’d ya tip?”_

_He’d tipped her five bucks and then assured her that it was meant for her._

_“Well, that's very sweet...God, I’m just sick of Nora and ZOEY...” she’d started to make his drink as she continued her rant, “Who is technically my manager, even though she’s ten years younger than me...God…”_

_He’d chuckled at the remark as she went on, “She hired all her little theatre friends and they will not SHUT THE HELL UP about some crappy production of_ Godspell _they put on last summer.”_

_“Oh that was the one at the rec center, right?” He’d said, happy to be making conversation with the extremely beautiful and extremely smart barista he’d definitely not been crushing on in the course of the past few months, “I think I had to see that...I did not like it.”_

_“Yeah! It sucked, right?”_

_“Yeah they shouldn’t call it_ Godspell, _more like God-awful.”_

_“Yeah...or God-damn that was bad.”_

_God, she was funny too. He was so far gone._

_“I don’t like musicals,” he’d said then, and she’d nodded as she listened, “Uh-watching people sing and dance makes me very uncomfortable…”_

_“Oh…” she’d said, quirking an eyebrow at him as she handed him his drink, “Why’d you come to the Theatre-kid infested coffee shop? Y’know, there’s a Starbucks right across the street.”_

_“Oh...um..well…” He’d looked down at his feet, contemplating his next words, “_ Some things are worth it.”

_She’d looked at him strangely, so he quickly had burned his tongue on the definitely-burnt coffee, “Like...damn good coffee.”_

_He’d given her a thumbs up which she reciprocated before standing up again._

_“I see you in here all the time, don’t I? What’s your name?”_

_“Paul.”_

_“Hi, Paul...I’m Emma.”_

Emma. 

And worth it, she was indeed.

As she recanted the orders his coworkers had given him, in wake of Ted’s ceaseless flirting, he’d glanced over to notice Ethan leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed fondly on a pair of dark-haired girls who were eating what looked like banana bread. He figured that the older one had been his girlfriend whilst he was alive, and the younger girl, her sister.

Ethan looked up and offered him a smile as Paul continued to watch his coworkers order coffee from his favorite crabby barista. 

“Okay,” She began tiredly, having undoubtedly put up with Ted’s unhealthy and rude habit of hitting on women in their workplace, “I’ve got a large chai iced tea with a carrot-cake pop, a small chamomile tea, one medium caramel macchiato, one medium black coffee, and a large caramel frappe, right?”

God, she was so amazing when she was done with the wor...wait...what?

_One medium black coffee…_

_Holy crap._

He stepped closer to her, phasing through the counter and Bill’s shoulder.

“Emma?” He asked quietly, receiving no response. 

Behind him, Ethan let out a small exclamation of surprise, muttering something that sounded like...banana? He couldn’t bring himself to care. 

She’d recounted the exact order they’d given him in the past reset. 

For a moment he thought perhaps he’d misheard her...but Ted’s snarky comment about the management having low standards made him realize that she had indeed placed his typical drink in the order. 

She remembered it. Somehow. 

How was that possible? For months, he’d been wandering aimlessly, without a single sign she had any idea he existed...and now??

What did that mean? 

He looked over at Ethan, who’d somehow gotten paler as he stared at his girlfriend’s- Lex, he remembered- little sister. 

_Oh my God._

The girl was staring straight at him. 

Not the wall...not the display case of pastries his asshole coworker was still leaning against...not _Emma_ ... _She was looking straight at him._

She smiled at him and nodded as if acknowledging his presence. 

She said something, too quiet for him to hear, but he could read her lips very well. 

“Not gone.”

With that, she’d turned back around and went back to finishing her banana bread. 

As Emma finished up the drinks for his coworkers, he decided he wouldn’t go back to CCRP with them. If there was even a chance for Emma to know he was there, he would give it to her. 

He watched as Ethan followed, the two girls out of the shop, his eyes still wide. For a moment he paused and wagered a glance at Paul, but kept moving, in spite of the clear shock on his face. 

Hannah, right as she left the shop, turned around and waved at him, and was gone before his mind had even registered what she had done. 

He spent the next few hours of Emma’s shift leaning against the wall, watching her forlornly. He remembered what it had been like, to walk into Beanies around 9:45 every day and to see her face light up when he came in, ready to make the first part of her shift a little more bearable. 

The coffee was crap, he knew. But seeing Emma’s face every day had made it worth every cent spent. 

Now, as he watched her weary form stare intently at the clock, a dead look in her eyes, his heart ached. He could tell she was exhausted, stressed, and possibly overwhelmed. If this was June of 2018, she would have just started classes with Hidgens...she’d told him what a mess she felt like she was -it had all come up during a pillow-talk session at home- between classes, and Beanies, and trying to gain her footing in a town she’d never thought she’d ever come back to, she was prone to breaking down under the stress. That had shocked Paul, seeing as Emma was easily the strongest, most incredible person he’d ever met. 

Even after she’d managed to gain her footing, and after they’d been in a relationship for a while, she was still vulnerable to breaking down… on some days she’d just come home and lay with him on the couch as he stroked her hair, letting her process what she needed or cry if she had to. She’d done the same for him when he was overwhelmed, on days when he’d be driven up the wall by panic and stress. 

Needless to say, to see her like this when he couldn’t at the very least ask her if she was alright, hurt his heart.

It still amazed him to look at her though. 

The way she would frown down at a countertop as she wiped it down. The way she would blow a loose strand of dark hair out of her face. The way she would make an obscene hand gesture when Zoey would complain about the smallest of things. 

Every single moment captivated him. No matter the circumstances, he was always so enthralled by whatever she had done. 

When her shift ended, he recognized the ‘go home and take a nap’ walk immediately, and he decided to walk her home. His heart ached when he remembered that it wasn’t _their_ home...but it was still Emma’s, and he was happy to get a few more moments with her. 

It was summer in Hatchetfield...and seeing how the weather was about as predictable as a new kitten (his heart hurt at the thought of Socks- who probably wouldn’t have even been _born_ at this point), the sun was burning hot, but the clouds threatened a rainstorm. He and Emma both had hated the immense heat, but had also loved going to Oakleigh Park and spending their lunch breaks there. Emma had also liked dragging him on hikes through the woods, laughing as he failed to navigate his lanky body through the overgrowth. 

The walk back to her apartment complex was short, but he could tell that her exhaustion made the walk all the more longer. It was easy to assume that her old car was giving her trouble again. 

Once they’d made it back to her apartment, she’d merely entered the room and flopped down on the bed, curling up in a fetal position on top of the comforter. 

Within moments, she was dead asleep. 

He smiled at her slumbering figure, her mouth slightly open, her messy bun coming nearly undone.

He remembered waking up to her every day after they’d moved in together and never once not smiling at how adorable she looked when she slept, with her slightly crinkled nose, furrowed eyebrows, parted lips. He missed those mornings so much. 

He decided not to linger long, not wanting to be creepy and watch her sleep from his somewhat afterlife, but he wanted nothing more than to curl up next to her and fall right asleep. He hadn’t needed to sleep since he’d...disappeared from existence, but the sight of Emma, peacefully asleep had made him wish he was still alive...still with her. 

He stifled the onslaught of tears, pricking the back of his eyes and wiped furiously at them, “I-uh...I know you can’t hear me, Em.” He said, “But...Today was the day I was supposed to first order a coffee from you...and I don’t know if you know this...but it's also the day I realized I had a total crush on you…”

He sniffed, it was bizarre to him that he could still cry, “It’s stupid...I-uh…I know…” he said, his voice breaking, “But I was so far gone the first time I got that crappy black coffee...I knew it wouldn’t be the last I would get at Beanies...even after Starbucks opened up again.”

Tears fell from his eyes as he tried to brush a stray hair away from her face, only to have his hand phase through, “I mean...to you I never even existed...but, God, Em...I still love you so much...so damn much...and I-I don’t believe I’m really gone…”

“I swear,” he started to cry harder, slightly ashamed at himself, “I swear, so long as I can...I will protect you as much as I can...and maybe one day...I can…” He choked on the words as sobs built in his chest, “Maybe I c-can co-come back to you…” 

The dam broke and his chest heaved with the sobs. The pain from the past few months of sporadic avoidance and emotional suppression revealing themselves like tidal waves rising on the beach, “I-I love you...so much, Em...and I am so, s-so s-sorry...th-that I couldn’t prot-protect you.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. With one last failed attempt to brush the hair away from her face, he mustered what energy he could, and quickly found himself back in the Black and White.

When he opened his eyes, he was met by the figures of John and Ethan facing one another. 

Ethan's face was contorted in panic, his usually calm and collected stance was worried

John turned to him, “Son.” he said, his voice grave, “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...as the tags say...we love Paul and therefore he must suffer.  
> We're putting him through the emotional rollercoaster, my friends.  
> Ted is a bastard, but he's our bastard.  
> Also, sorry-not-sorry for the poorly-timed Charlotte joke/reference.  
> Protect Hannah and Lex Foster 2020
> 
> PLEASE COMMENT OR LEAVE KUDOS IF YOU WOULD LIKE!! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!  
> As always (I say that, even though I started posting this fic this morning)...  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	5. Its Alright...It Gets Easier with Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The B&W crew talk. We see a new face. Dreams are weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs used in this chapter are...  
> \- One More Day by Vast (the name of the chapter comes from this song)  
> \- (You're The) Devil in Disguise by Elvis Presley 
> 
> The lyrics to these are represented by bold text. 
> 
> Also, incoming Shipwrecked Comedy and TCB references!!!

“I swear to you, Johnny, Hannah looked straight at him!” Ethan was saying, his gloved hands flying.

“You’re sure?” 

“Possibility,” Ethan said with a nod. 

John and Paul looked at him with confusion. 

“Wait...that's not the right word,” the teen said, his eyes scrunched up as he thought to himself, “What does the plus sign mean on a battery?”

“You mean you’re positive?” Paul suggested, too emotionally exhausted to think straight. 

“That's it!” The teen nodded, “I’m _positive_ …” 

John furrowed his brow and stared the teen down. 

“And that’s not the first time Hannah has done something like this,” Ethan went on, “Hell, you knew she and Lex were special...you told Lex so after we’d both died!”

John nodded, not saying anything. 

Paul was confused...again...big surprise.

“What do you mean, they’re special?” He asked, his head starting to hurt. 

Ethan looked at him, “Lex and Hannah, they can do things that other people can’t. Hannah, she _knows_ things...for a while, I thought she just had an imaginary friend but…but Webby is something _else._ ”

“Webby?” 

“The Being of Whispers.” John clarified, “She inhabits the Black and White in the form of a Spider and whispers things to people all the time. Hannah, unlike 99.99 percent of the population, is extremely receptive to them and can hear them as clearly as if she was in the same room.”

“And, Lex?” Paul asked.

“She can reach into the Black and White an’ pull things from it…” Ethan said with a shudder, “It took a near-death experience for her to realize it though… Johnny helped her.” 

Paul looked to John who merely shrugged, “I showed her the path, she was the one who walked it.”

“Hell yeah, she was!” Ethan exclaimed proudly.

Paul raised an eyebrow, “But...if Hannah can see us...what does that mean?” 

Ethan shook his head, “No...she can see _you_. Every time I’ve tried and followed them around, Banana has never noticed me. I think it has something to do with the reset in which I died.”

“Oh…” Paul said, slightly confused, “What happened?”

Ethan shuddered and looked down, “I was trying to talk to Hannah, tell her to get to safety, but Wiggly…”

“Wiggly?” _Where did these apocalyptic forces get their names?_

“The Being of Chaos,” John said, “He was responsible for mass mania on the Black Friday of 2020, resulting in Ethan getting beaten to death, and my soul merging with the Black and White.”

“Yeah,” Ethan nodded, “That's the bastard...so anyway I was tryin’ to warn Hannah and tell her to find her sister and run...but that Cthulhu-looking _prick_ twisted my message…” He trailed off, looking guilty.

John nodded, picking up where he left off, “You see, Hannah was in possession of a doll that his prophet, a Linda Monroe…”

“The boating society bitch?” 

Ethan stifled a laugh and nodded. 

John continued, “Basically they needed the doll so they could create a portal, and because Hannah had it, the image of Ethan’s warning was contorted to try and manipulate the girl. Had they succeeded, they would have unleashed forces of destruction upon this world beyond imagination.”

“Wait...so this...being of chaos, failed?”

“That’s affirmative.” John nodded. 

“Then how’d we end up in another reset?” 

“The President fucked up and accidentally nuked Moscow,” Ethan chimed in, “Those 2020 World War Three memes didn’t age well.” 

“Oh.” 

Ethan looked down again, “Mr. Houston, me and Lex’s old shop teacher, got the doll first...but Hannah was so scared, and I ain’t gonna let myself be the cause of that again.”

Paul nodded understandingly, “So, she can’t see you?”

Ethan shook his head, “I don’t think I can control what she sees...so either she just _can’t_ see me, or _doesn’t want to..._ subco-what's the word that means like _inside_ your brain but you don’t really know what it is?”

“Subconsciously, son,” John said patiently, “The word you’re looking for is subconsciously.”

“But...why can she see me?” Paul asked, “I didn’t even know her in any of my past lives...did I?”

Ethan and John shared a look, as if having a silent conversation between the two of them, that Paul couldn’t quite pick up on. 

“Well...I mean, you and Emma did sorta adopt them in the third reset...” Ethan mumbled.

“ _What?!?_ ”

“But we don’t have time to unpack all of that,” he said quickly, “So we need to think more about how she didn’t notice you until after Emma flipped out, or something…”

Paul thought back for a second, still trying to wrap his head around the information that he probably would forget to ask about later. 

“Paul,” John said, “Did anything strange happen when you both were at the coffee shop?”

 _Oh._ Right. 

That extra black coffee. 

“Um…” he stammered, unsure of how to explain it, “Well...um...a bunch of my coworkers…” 

_Old coworkers,_ his mind nagged at him. But he pushed the bitter thought away. 

“Today was the day...in the past reset, when I first ordered a coffee from Emma…and, well...she-um,”

John nodded encouragingly, “Go on, son.” 

“She..um...she added what I had gotten that day to the order,” he sighed, “I don’t know how significant that is...but...”

“Are you _kiddin’ me?_ ” Ethan exclaimed suddenly, “That definitely means something!” 

John’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared aimlessly at the ground, thinking hard. 

“I was shocked...because it was the exact same order, the same pattern of drinks too!” 

“What drink was it?” Ethan asked.

“A medium black coffee,” Paul said, failing to realize the relevance. Ethan gave him an unsurprised look as if it was not surprising that the most boring-looking man he’d seen drank only black coffee, and he went on “...but it was in the exact same pattern that my coworkers had ordered it in the last reset.” 

John looked up, his green eyes widening slightly. 

“Johnny?” Ethan asked hesitantly, “Whatcha thinkin’?”

“I...need to see someone…” He murmured, drawing up a doorway with his fingers. 

“What do you mean?” Paul asked, “Do you need us to go with you?”

“No, Paul, you and Ethan stay here until I return.” He said curtly, “If you need to move in order to avoid any of the beings, do so, but do _not_ venture into any realities until I come back.”

With that, he saluted them and stepped through the doorway, leaving Paul and Ethan bewildered. 

_What the hell?_

\---

Xander Lee was many things. 

He was a theoretical physicist, he was a field agent, he was a lieutenant colonel, he was a man with great style, he was part of a covert military branch, but if there was one thing he most definitely was, it was tired. 

You would think that working for a covert organization that deals with paranormal, extraterrestrial, and interdimensional phenomena would be exciting. Especially when you were the top physicist in the department. 

A child prodigy, Xander had quickly caught the attention of the government. He’d been able to acquire a doctorate in five short years at the age of 23 and was quickly recruited by the military, before being transferred to a secret branch called PEIP. He’d been excited at first, a bright and shiny theoretical physicist, but the lack of missions that he’d seen in his tenure...with an overall lack of funding made his experiences...boring. 

Now, he was 35 and spent more time in a darkroom-like office rather than a lab, working for an organization that lacked a decisive leader and funding. 

Still, it paid for his mother’s medical bills, and even though every sample his scientists brought in proved to be blissfully mundane, he didn’t resign. 

He sat in his office, staring aimlessly at the equations he’d drawn up on the whiteboard. 

Normally, equations came as easily to him as recognizing colors, but these...these were different. They’d come to him a few months before...around Christmas time. 

He wasn’t sure what the compulsion to draw up these new equations meant for him, and he wasn’t sure what exactly they represented...they were just there...in his mind. 

In addition to being an incredibly intelligent scientist, he was also relatively skilled in sketching. The ideas for drawings sometimes just popped into his head and he was able to do it to the best of his ability. Most of the time they never turned out _exactly_ how he wanted...but it was still easy for him to satisfy his need to draw something. 

Writing these equations had been like that. The idea...just _came_ to him. That was the best way he could explain it. 

Oftentimes, when he wasn’t helping the interns understand the experimental software they’d use at HQ, worry about his Mom’s dialysis, or watching old films like his personal favorite, “ _American Whoopee!_ ” on streaming platforms, he would stare aimlessly at the equations, wondering what they meant. 

The phone rang, snapping him out of his daze. With a sigh, he pushed the speaker button. 

“This is Lee,” he sighed. 

“Xander,” A familiar female voice spoke through the crappy audio he could make out, “It’s Schaeffer.”

“Ah, June,” Xander said, “Is this important? I’m busy.”

“I’d hardly call staring at your mystery equations being busy,” Colonel June Shaeffer quipped back. 

“Well, it’s what I was hired to do, wasn’t it?” He asked, smirking slightly. 

He could practically sense her annoyance on the other end of the phone. 

“Xan, you might want to recalibrate the sensors again,” She said, her voice taking on the official tone that had made her infamous among the interns, “The one on Squirrel Street went offline for a while earlier today.” 

“You need to be more specific, June,” Xander said, massaging his temples, “There are five sensors on Squirrel Street- why’d they rename the street that anyway?” 

“Something to do with a pocket-sized squirrel the town has immense affection for,” Shaeffer said, “Just recalibrate it. I don’t want what little equipment we can afford to have to break down.” 

Xander sighed, “You still haven’t told me which one it was, June.”

“Sorry, let me check,” she went silent for a while, “It was the one outside that coffee shop...Beanies, I think...yeah, Beanies.”

“Thanks, Colonel, I’ll get right on it.” He sighed. Just another piece of equipment that practically had done nothing since he’d implemented it. 

They were supposed to pick up on anomalies that were unexplained...which was a broad umbrella. They could, however, tell from some of the different results picked up, if it was an interdimensional, paranormal, or hell, even _extraterrestrial_ anomaly.

He didn’t know how valid the principles upon which PEIP had been founded were. After twelve years with the organization and nothing so abnormal as a weird weather pattern, he’d started to have his doubts that The Black and White even existed.

He’d remembered when he’d met PEIP’s Science Division founder, the incredibly lively, in spite of her advanced age, Barbara Lavernor, she’d told him about the Black and White when she’d inducted him into PEIP. 

_“There are infinite numbers of dimensions, Mr. Lee,”_ She’d said, a twinkle in her perky eyes, wisened with age, “... _and now, you get to study the center of them all...a place we call, the Black and White.”_

He felt like a kid hearing a ghost story for the first time when he’d first heard about it, entranced by the concepts he could barely understand, and yet, he’d been excited. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and he was excited to be a part of it...but now...he was unsure. 

As he pulled up the specs from the sensor on his tablet, he pulled up the recalibration option...when something caught his eye. 

These results were...abnormal. 

He leaned in and studied the readings. According to early PEIP research, this correlated to...interdimensional interference?

He checked the time stamp on the results...two hours before…

He glanced back up at the equations...and then at the stack of papers he’d piled ceaselessly on top of a filing cabinet.

 _Huh,_ he thought, _Maybe twelve years haven’t been entirely wasted after all._

He stood and rifled through the papers, looking at the several copies of original parameters made by some of PEIP’s original scientists, including Ms. Lavernor herself, looking for anything that would show original characteristics and theories. It was then, that a particularly thick paper caught his eye. 

A loose sketch had made it into the incredibly messy stack. 

He pulled it free from underneath the thick stacks of stapled-together papers and colorful graphs that he’d made back when he’d first joined PEIP. He made a mental note to organize his papers again, later. 

The sketch was one he’d done a while back, he’d almost forgotten that it existed. 

It was a sketch of a man, with long hair, intense eyes, and an attractive face. It was probably one of the more realistic sketches he’d done in a long time. The man’s gaze, while intense, was also...soft...it felt warm and nice to Xander. When asked by some wandering interns, or even June who it was, he’d felt like he should have had an answer...but he didn’t. 

Instead, he’d settled on a generic name for this new face he’d drawn.

 _Oh hey, John,_ he thought, before tossing it onto his desk. He’d have to hold onto that one...it was most definitely one of his best works. 

With a start, he began to rifle through his papers, making mental plans to visit the coffee shop the next day. 

\---

**_“Have you heard?_ **

**_Have you tried to understand?_ **

**_It’s alright- It gets easier with time._ **

**_How are you? Are you ever coming back?_ **

**_I have changed, and I’ve realized I was wrong._ **

**_I was wrong._ **

**_Now I’ll never see your face... anymore._ **

**_Oh, my love, I’d give anything for one more day with you…”_ **

_The song’s melancholy lyrics and tempo were soothing to Emma as she stared at the bright screen of her laptop, typing out an essay for Hidgens that wasn’t due for another two weeks._

_A small, grey, tabby cat was curled up next to her left thigh, sleeping soundly. As she typed endlessly about the rate of cellular division, she felt...somewhat bored, her last two coffees being the only thing keeping her going._

_It was Friday, and for once, Nora hadn’t put her on a shift, and she had no classes, so she tried to focus on what she was working on so she wouldn’t stress out._

**_“I’m getting through… wish you felt the way I do._ **

**_I have changed… and I’ve realized I was wrong._ **

**_I was wrong._ **

**_Now I’ll never see your face… anymore._ **

**_Oh, my love, I’d give anything for one more day with you…”_ **

_The sound of the door opening woke the cat up and he scrambled off of the couch, possibly to hide or demand attention from the new addition._

_“Hey, Em,” A calm, sweet voice called from the other room. It sounded so familiar._

_She hummed in response as she continued to type out her essay._

_After a few moments, a new person joined her on the couch, having shed his blazer and shoes, and rolled his sleeves up past his elbows._

_He leaned his head on her shoulder and pressed a light kiss to it. He chuckled when he saw what she was working on, “How long have you been working on this for?”_

_She shrugged, jostling his head, he snickered, “And when is this supposed to be due?”_

_She made a noncommittal noise and he got up, moving from his place on her shoulder, to wrap his arms around her waist, extending his long limbs across the rest of the couch._

_“Emma, you’ve been working too hard, you need a break,” He said, the gentle tone in his voice both teasing and yet...somehow calming._

_“I’ve gotta get this done for Hidgens,” she’d reasoned, still not looking up from her laptop “Go bother the cat.”_

_He moved his head to her lap and shook his head, “Nope. Not until you take a break.”_

_She sighed and pushed one of her hands through his hair. Damn, it was soft._

_Behind them, the sad song crooned in their ears._

**_“...I was wrong._ **

**_Now I’ll never see your face… anymore._ **

**_Oh, my love, I’d give anything for one more day with you…”_ **

_He’d sighed and stood up, taking her phone from its place on the armrest of the chair and turned it off._

_“What’re you doing?” She’d asked, not really bothered by his interference._

_“You need a break,” he’d said, turning on a different song...was that Elvis? “So, we’re going to dance.”_

_“Dancing?” She’d laughed as he moved her laptop off of her lap and gently pulled her up and into his arms, “The guy who doesn’t like musicals is going to be dancing?”_

_He took her hands, and placed one on his shoulder as he held her waist and other hand, “Yep.”_

_She looked at their feet, his large feet in The Office-themed socks, dwarfing her own, as she tried to make sure she didn’t step on the cat, who was trying to maneuver himself between their legs as they began to sway._

_Her legs were slightly stiff from being in a Criss-crossed position for so long, and they shook as she stood. Still, in spite of the complaints from her body, she couldn’t fight the smile that crept its way onto her face._

**_“You look like an angel (look like an angel)_ **

**_Walk like an angel (walk like an angel)_ **

**_Talk like an angel…”_ **

**_“_ ** _But I got wiiiissseee” He sang along with Elvis as he moved his chin to her temple, “You’re the devil in disguise...oh yes you are….” he poked her cheek with his nose, stooping down to do so._

_She snickered, “Have you been practicing for this?”_

_He laughed and continued to sway with her, a smile she couldn’t see but could definitely sense on his face._

_“Am I really as bad as the Devil?” She said, slapping his shoulder playfully._

_He didn’t answer, settling for a content hum against her head. He pressed a light kiss against her forehead._

_As she moved closer, she noticed how nice he smelled, how natural the feeling of his hand on her waist- firm, yet gentle- felt. She still didn’t look up, for the lingering fear of stepping on the needy cat._

_As he began to move faster, she giggled against his shoulder, realizing the move he was about to make, “Nerd, I swear, if you try and dip me-”_

_He did, and they both fell to the ground in a heap of laughter, him on top of her, sending the cat scampering off._

_“Oh God, Em,” he said as he looked down at her, her eyes scrunched shut, “Are you okay?”_

_She’d answered him in a fit of giggles, grabbing at his shoulders to pull him down into a deep kiss._

_She smiled, his lips were nice. He deepened it with a satisfied hum, cupping her face gently._

_“Did I succeed in distracting you?” He asked, clearly pleased with himself._

_She nodded as she opened her eyes, “I love you, nerd.”_

_His voice softened, the teasing tone gone, “I love you too.”_

_When she opened her eyes, she was met by blue eyes...beautiful, gentle, big...familiar…_

Emma shot up in bed with a gasp.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...things are getting interesting. Also, hello Xander!!  
> Can you tell that I am absolutely obsessed with Paulkins fluff?  
> You can pry Artist!Xander and Weird-Sock-Lover!Paul out of my cold, dead, hands. 
> 
> Sorry for yet another long chapter!
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, they really mean a lot!!  
> Thanks for reading!!! :)
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	6. I Lose my Voice When I Look at You, Can't Make a Noise Though I'm Tryin' To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finds the urge to hope again.  
> Xander wants to figure it out.  
> Emma cries.  
> Paul tries. 
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Car-Crashes, Panic Attacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Black Butterflies and Deja Vu" by The Maine.

John Robert MacNamara had been in the military for as long as he could remember. 

He’d been a military brat from the start, moving around from base to base with his father every few months. 

At that time, his father had taught him all about the military and what it was supposed to stand for. 

He remembered the day he told his dad that he was planning on joining the military to be just like him. Instead of smiling, his father had knelt down, placed a hand on his shoulder, and looked him dead in the eyes. 

_“Look me in the eye now, John,” he’d said seriously, “And make a solemn vow, to be your best self now.”_

At first, John hadn’t realized how important that vow would be, and even after his father had died he swore to live by the lessons his father had taught him. To be a better man than he thought himself capable of. 

He would be _good_. For the country he would go on to serve, for the people he cared about, for what he believed in, he would be the best version of himself that his father would be proud of. 

His father had been the one to teach him about the true meaning of truth and love.

Love was a constant in the universe, and the human heart was capable of so much if a person took the time to learn its language. 

John had lived by that lesson, long after his father passed. 

It was that lesson that had led him to PEIP.

It was that lesson that had helped him cope with the loss of Colonel Cross.

It was that lesson that had made him a great general. 

It was that lesson that had led him to Xander.

It was that lesson that had led him to a marriage that lasted nearly two years. 

And it was that lesson... that had gotten him killed.

When he’d married Xander, all those resets ago, they’d sworn to love one another for all eternity, but the mission to make the world a better place and defeat the forces of darkness which threatened to devour everything they swore to protect always took precedence. They’d both sworn their lives to saving the world when needed, and yet...it hurt every time he’d been sent on a mission, not knowing if he would ever come back for him. 

He’d not even wanted to get married until he met Xander. The mission of protecting the world had always seemed so much bigger than his own heart's desires. 

That's what had made it easy to connect with Paul, it seemed, in the reset that had happened before the Black Friday one. 

The worst part about watching things from the Black and White was seeing how they would fail. He’d been raised to believe that humanity had the strength in their hearts to overcome any and all darkness...but being in the Black and White made it seem like Hatchetfield was always doomed to fall. Regardless of the efforts of people... _good_ people, fighting for their world...they always failed. 

He’d seen it when he had looked back into the previous reset after he died, in the ways he and his forces had fallen so easily to the work of Apatha...the Being of Conformal Order. He had sent Paul to his death in that reset and led him to kill the love of his life. Then with Wiggly’s wrath upon the world, he’d sent the well-meaning, albeit stupid, President of the United States into his clutches. That mistake had gotten him killed, and then, he’d supplied the Being of Chaos with means by which the people he had put so much faith in, would bring about their own destruction. 

The knowledge of that and the guilt behind it was crippling. 

He wondered what his father would have thought of him now.

He’d often told himself that he wouldn’t look into Hatchetfield’s present after Xander. It would be too much. Xander was capable and smart. He didn’t need John to look after him. Especially not when John MacNamara had never existed. 

Still, when Paul had mentioned that damn coffee order...he had to hope, right?

Hope had been something he’d come to rely on whilst he had a life in reality with Hatchetfield. He also knew that if he was right, Xander Lee would be there first. 

So, he’d manifested himself to the office and had his suspicions about the Paul and Emma case confirmed.

He had also found, to his disgust, that in this reset, PEIP was severely underfunded and was in need of leadership. 

When he’d found Xander, he tried to focus on what June had told him about the sensors, but he kept looking back up at the new equations on the whiteboard he loved so much. 

Those were new. 

After a while, he’d started to turn around, to maybe see where June was in all of this. Seeing Xander couldn’t be something he could get heartbroken over. He couldn’t make a habit of going to see his husband that didn’t know he had ever existed...not when being in the Black and White was his not-so-new eternity. 

Then he’d heard something.

_“Hey, John.”_

At that, he’d whirled around, with vague hopes that his husband would be smiling at him.

Instead, he found Xander smiling at a piece of sketch paper...with a near-life-like sketch of...him. 

Drawing was one of Xander’s many hidden talents. Few people knew that he could draw out equations as well as he could draw out people. John had always admired that about him, having lacked the patience to draw anything other than a stick figure. 

But seeing his own face on that paper had given him hope…

“Hey, Xan…” he’d murmured in response, in the full knowledge that he couldn’t hear him. 

Oh well, maybe he could come back the next day…

Maybe John MacNamara wouldn’t lose hope after all. 

\---

Reset No. 6

Date: July 1st, 2018

Being Unknown

Xander had planned to visit Beanies the next day so he could scout out the area. 

Those readings had given him hope that maybe he hadn’t spent over a decade wasting his time. He’d updated and recalibrated the sensors the night before so that they would pick up on any drastic changes or anomalies in the dimensional fabric. 

The coffee shop immediately struck him as unassuming. Between the faded paint on the small chalkboards outside the doors, the windows that hadn’t been wiped down in a while, and the forced fun atmosphere...Beanies was not a place that a lot of people would frequent, the general lack of people within the building itself was an indicator of that. 

When he walked in, he immediately took notice of a very exhausted barista leaning over the counter. Between the messy bun, the big bags underneath her eyes, and the annoyed expression, she clearly wasn’t being paid enough to work here. 

There was only one customer in there before him, a teenage boy who appeared to be sweating as he sipped away at a mug with copious amounts of whipped cream on top. 

As he approached, the barista looked up, “Hi, can I help you?” she asked.

“Um...yeah,” he said, “May I please get a large chai iced tea?” 

She nodded, “Sure, that’ll be five-fifty.”

He merely nodded in response, dropping a dollar into the tip jar. 

As she made the drink, he looked at his tablet, which he’d brought along, going back over the readings.

He looked up at her, “Ma’am? Were you working here yesterday at about noon?” He asked. 

She’d seemed a little taken aback by the question, raising an eyebrow suspiciously “What’s it to you?” She retorted as she handed him his drink. 

“I just want to know if anything seemed a bit... strange?” 

She gave him a weird look, “If by strange... you mean we had a party of four, which is a record for how many customers we get at once...then sure.”

He shrugged in response, “Thanks anyway.” 

He took a seat at one of the tables by the wide windows. It didn’t look entirely clean, but he wasn’t picky.

As he observed the coffee shop, he noticed that at a time it might have been considered cute. Maybe even popular among the hipsters. But between the mint green paint which seemed to be in need of another touch-up and the obvious exhaustion of the only present staff member, he could tell that it was a miracle that this place hadn’t been closed down. 

The tired barista stood and walked to the backroom, where he could make out her telling someone named Nora that she was clocking out. 

As he drank his drink, which was not very good quality, he thought about what could have happened here that made the sensors go off in the ways that they had. Physically, the place looked like it was normal...no evidence of interdimensional tears or anything...maybe his sensors had just been misfiring. 

He prepared to leave in order to check the sensor site, to make sure it hadn’t just been a malfunction- which would have been a major disappointment- when the sound of a loud crash and screaming snapped both him and the kid with the whipped cream to attention. 

He ran out the doors to see a flurry of smoke and sparks coming from a telephone pole across the street. 

He narrowly avoided slamming into a young girl as he ran to look at the damage. When the smoke had somewhat cleared, he could see a car had rammed into a telephone pole, knocking it over onto the street. 

It was then, that he noticed a woman, crumpled to the ground, a foot or two away from where the telephone pole had fallen. He presumed that had she not moved in time, she would have been crushed by the thick wooden beam. With a start he recognized her.

It was the tired barista from Beanies. 

She was conscious and sitting up on her elbows, her head was whipping around as if looking for someone. Other than some soot that was smeared on her face and forehead, she appeared otherwise unharmed. 

“Are you okay?” he asked her, extending his hand towards her. She stared at the extended hand, as if not registering that he was there to help her.

Her eyes searched the area around them ceaselessly, as if still figuring out what had just happened. 

“Wh-who push-pushed m-me..?” She whispered, her voice shaky with adrenaline and nervous energy. Tears were blooming in her brown eyes, she didn’t seem to notice. 

“What?” he asked dumbly. She didn’t respond as her eyes frantically searched the chaotic space around them. 

Suddenly the sound of loud beeping registered in his brain. 

He looked down at his tablet, still clutched in his left hand, and saw that _all_ of the sensors hidden on the street were going off. 

What the hell had just happened?

\---

Emma had been having _a day._

She’d not gotten much sleep the night before, a fact she’d blamed on the heavenly nap she’d taken when she’d gotten home, which had made the day seemingly pass slower and slower. 

Her car refused to start again, which meant that she would have to walk from her apartment to Beanies again, and hope that it would be more agreeable by the time she had classes that afternoon- seeing as she barely had enough cash for bus fare. 

The shift hadn’t started out well, seeing as how she was instantly greeted by Zoey and one of her theatre-friend employees singing scales in the breakroom, almost instantly giving her a headache. For once, Zoey’s singing voice sounded more like screeching, and her friends - Rachel?- voice wasn't much better. And even then, in a very hypocritical turn of events, Nora had yelled at Emma for actually getting to work, unlike Zoey and Rachel, because “she was moving too slow and they had a line”. 

To make matters worse, the Karen from the day before had returned, ordering the same drink with a snotty “and make it snappy, girl,” before returning to a very loud and very overdramatic phone conversation with someone named Gerald. Emma had repeated her conduct from the day before and spat in the drink again. 

Much to her slight disappointment, Lexi and Hannah hadn’t come back. Seeing as how they were the only decent people she’d been able to give coffee and crappy pastries to in the past few weeks. 

Finally, as a flurry of customers passed by, she was nearing the end of her shift. She was less than five minutes away from clocking in when- of _course_ \- someone else had to walk in. 

The guy looked like he belonged in one of _The Matrix_ movies, with his funky eighties-esque sunglasses and overall black garb. With the authoritative way that he walked, she was expecting to get one of those extremely annoying self-important customers, who seemed to think that the presence of a bright green apron made you less of a human being. 

Surprisingly enough, though, he’d been polite _and_ tipped- a rare combination _._ Minus the odd question about if anything weird had happened the day before, to which she’d thought talking about the accidental addition of a black coffee to that party of four’s order was not worth mentioning. Instead, she’d just said that getting a party of four was odd for them and sent him on his merry way. 

Finally, she was able to clock out, with only an annoyed huff from Nora, and some mild complaining from Zoey, who had remained in the breakroom doing God-only-knows-what in the hours since her shift began. 

As she began her walk home, she figured she could fit a shower in before classes began, maybe even get to eat something, seeing as her classes, depending on the professor combination for the day, sometimes went till eleven. 

She tried to avoid thinking of the freaky dream from the night before. Something about it had been...off-putting… she didn’t know what to make of it for the most part. 

To name a few things, she had _never_ owned a cat, she certainly _did not_ live in a nice house like the one in the dream, and to make it all weirder, she was _not_ looking for a relationship that involved all that mushy-romance stuff- like dancing in the living room after overworking herself. 

_So why had it felt so_ normal _?_

_Why did it feel so...amazing?_

She couldn’t get the mystery person’s eyes out of her head.

They’d been what had woken her up, after all.

 _Nobody_ she knew had eyes like those…

That beautiful, serene, calm blue...both gentle and enticing…had been so _unearthly._

It was like as she’d merely glanced at them, she’d felt as though she’d been struck by lightning. Whether it was a pleasant kind of thunder-struck or frightful, she was unsure. 

For all she knew, he was only a concoction of what her subconscious thought her ideal partner might have been like. 

Nah, all that _affection_ was too much for her to handle.

Sorry, dream-guy who probably didn’t even exist. 

But then, of course, there was the matter of how _comfortable_ she’d been.

She hated any and all forms of physical confidence, but in this guys’ arms…

_Damn, her mind was lingering on the mystery-dream-guy again._

She turned to make her way across the street at the crosswalk, so she could get to her apartment, thinking mainly about what her agenda for the afternoon was. She looked both ways before crossing the street, wary of Hatchetfield’s God-awful reputation when it came to drivers when she noticed a familiar girl with braids standing by the Beanies windows. _Hannah._

She smiled at the girl, raising her hand in response, but the girl merely stood there, staring blankly at her. 

Where was her sister?

She’d been so caught up in the girls confused, vacant gaze, that she hadn’t noticed the junky red minivan hurtling towards a telephone pole she was standing two or three yards away from. 

In a haze of movement, noise, and screaming that had sent her mind reeling, the street seemed to freeze. She registered the sounds of metal screeching and wood breaking as the car collided with the pole. 

It was a car crash. 

_A goddamn car crash._

Her heartbeat echoed loudly in her ears as Jane’s face flashed in her mind. She couldn’t move, in spite of the evident crumbling of the telephone pole that had been hit. 

She’d realized too late that it could possibly crush her. All she could do was close her eyes as the blood rushed in her ears, and her chest began to cramp up...she was going to die-

A body collided with hers, pushing her to the ground as the sound of crumbling metal and wood roared in her ears. 

The wind was knocked out of her lungs as she collided with the warm pavement, both burning and chilling her skin. She barely registered the pain of a few scrapes on her arms as she fell, but she still couldn’t move. 

Suddenly, the noise stopped. 

She opened her eyes. 

Her eyes burned with the smoke that was coming from the wreck. Her lungs were screaming for air. 

She propped herself up on her elbows and tried desperately to take in air, but the smoke made it difficult. 

Before she knew it, the sound of sirens filled her ears, and she tried to push away any thoughts of Jane’s last moments. 

She looked around for the person who’d saved her life...maybe to see if they were okay too, seeing as how they’d hit the ground _hard._

As her hazy vision adjusted, she scanned her surroundings, hoping to find the person who’d gotten her out of the way and found...no one. 

After a while, she continued to fight back tears as she searched for somebody...anybody who’d helped her….but there was no one, just the unconscious driver of the red minivan- a greasy, balding man, with thick wire-framed glasses, wearing a red and blue polo. 

She felt her hands shaking and her chest felt like it was being torn apart as she tried to process what had happened, without looking at the decimated car she remained only a few yards away from. 

She felt the hot tears streaming down her face, making trails in the thick layer of soot and exhaust that covered her. 

“Are you okay?” a concerned man's voice asked her. 

She looked up to see the Matrix customer from earlier, he held out a hand to her, as if to help her up, but she couldn’t take it. 

“Wh-who push-pushed m-me..?” she whispered, hating the fact that her voice sounded so broken. 

He’d only stared at her, before being distracted by the sound of beeping. 

After that, a paramedic had quickly helped her up and checked her for injuries. She watched as the driver was inspected, recognizing him as the squat, perverted, Sherman Young, who’d been banned from Beanies two months before...very obviously inebriated. She also recognized the asshole, red-haired cop, who had accompanied the ambulance carrying Sherman as Sam, Zoey’s kinda-boyfriend. 

Those moments in the ambulance passed quickly, but once she was cleared of injuries she was given a ride home by a cop they called Rob, much to her personal chagrin. She couldn’t stop shaking and had only murmured her address before being driven home. 

Once she finally closed her apartment door, the dam broke. 

She crumpled to the floor, silent tears streaming down her face as she shook ceaselessly. She couldn’t get her sister’s face out of her head. 

_Jane. Jane. Jane. Jane. Jane._

_Jane who had been perfect._

_Jane who had been hit by a drunk driver._

_Jane who was now dead._

_Jane. Jane. Jane…_

She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest never ceasing. It felt like someone was stabbing her from the inside, and she couldn’t stop shivering. She half-crawled to her bed and managed to pull herself on top before pulling her knees to her chest and sobbing her eyes out, not caring that she was going to be late for classes. To hell with them, she could afford to miss a single day. 

She cried for her sister.

She cried for herself.

She cried for what she had lost. 

She cried because she had no one. 

She cried because she was stuck in _Hatchetfield_. 

She cried because she was alone.

She cried and cried and cried…

  
  


For once, she wished she had someone to hold her like the guy in the dream had. 

\---

He was...shell shocked to put it nicely. 

Paul decided to spend another day with Emma, not wanting to hang around in the Black and White after John had left for what felt like forever. 

The day hadn’t been great for Emma, and it took every fiber of his being not to help her out...Even though he probably couldn’t have done anything, to begin with.

He’d forgotten how annoying people in coffee shops could be, and he’d been accompanied to Beanies several times with _Ted_ of all people. 

The final customer of the day had been a man accompanied by John of all people- not that the man knew John was there...but Paul decided against asking John what he was doing with him.

For a split second, though, Paul thought he’d seen a flicker of...fondness...on John’s normally resolute face. 

_Oh._

_So this was the husband._

_Damn, John._

He decided against pressing John for details and instead focused more on Emma. 

At the end of the day, he was glad that she seemed a little more relaxed. As she left Beanies and walked back in the direction of her apartment, he figured nothing else could go wrong in her day. 

He’d been wrong. 

He’d been _so_ wrong. 

He’d barely had time to react when that car came hurtling across the corner slamming into the telephone pole. 

The sound made his stomach fall and suddenly...time seemed to slow down. 

He took one look at Emma’s pale face with eyes blown wide in terror and knew instantly that panic had settled in. 

Since Jane’s death, even mentioning incidents like this had always struck a painful, very raw wound on Emma’s soul. 

Never before had a car accident happened _right in front of her_ , though. 

He could see the terror in her eyes as the cacophony of scraping metal echoed throughout the street. He could see her hands and legs shaking endlessly, as her chest heaved, desperate for air. 

The sound of the wood cracking as the pole began to fall was enough to incite some sort of instinct in him. He didn’t know how effective it would be, but every cell in his body had one mission; protect Emma. 

So when he’d shoved her out of the way, and he _didn’t phase through her,_ he’d been beyond shocked. 

As they collapsed to the ground in sync with the telephone pole, it took him a moment to realize that he was actually _holding_ her.

He had touched her.

He hadn’t just phased through her like a ghost.

_He’d just saved her life._

It didn’t last long, mere milliseconds after hitting the ground his arms phased through her again...but it had still happened. 

All he could do was stare at his arms and then look back at her, checking to make sure she was okay.

She wasn’t...you didn’t have to be a genius to figure that out. 

Moments later, John’s maybe-husband was walking over and asking her if she was alright, John trailing close behind him. 

He met John's gaze and his heart fell through his chest as an emotion on John’s face appeared that he’d never seen on the man before. 

John looked...frightened. 

“Paul…” he began, knowing full well that no one around them could hear. 

Paul shook his head, his eyes returning to Emma, who was starting to be helped up by a paramedic. When had they gotten here?

“Paul...we need to talk about this…” John began, actually sounding _hesitant._

Paul shook his head again as he followed Emma and the paramedic to the ambulance, “No...not now.”

Despite knowing that she couldn’t feel it, he’d had his hand on her back the whole time as the paramedics checked her for injuries. She was in shock, they could tell, but she wasn’t injured...thank God. 

He’d been there with her when Sam’s coworker drove her home, she was still shaking...but the cop hadn’t noticed, much less _cared._

As she stumbled to her apartment, fiddling with her key as she tried desperately to unlock the door, he tried to talk to her, to say anything that could calm her down. But his assurances were met by deaf ears. 

As soon as she’d made it in and locked the door to her tiny apartment, she’d sunk to the floor in heaving, deathly-silent, sobs. 

His heart ached at the sight of her suffering. She was crying quietly into the ground as she murmured the words “Jane” and “I’m sorry” under her gasping, heaving breath. 

As she crawled her way to the bed, he’d sat down next to her and rubbed her back, hoping for just a second that maybe she could feel the comfort that she was in need of. 

He didn’t return to the Black and White that night, as he tried and he tried to give her comfort...tried to let her know that she wasn’t alone. 

The comfort, he knew, would never reach her. 

Nevertheless...he tried. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I keep saying these chapters are going to get shorter...but it seems that I keep lying to myself.  
> I'm sorry for making these characters suffer as much as they are.  
> Emma and Paul are really going through it, huh?
> 
> Also...I just realized that the names June (Schaeffer) and Jane are very similar. Hopefully, that doesn't cause any confusion!
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos, as I would love to know what you think of my bullcrap!!  
> THANKS FOR READING!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	7. I've Been Less Than Half Myself for More Than Half My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets an unexpected visitor.  
> Ethan is left with fear.  
> Xander is confronted with his lack of sleep and geeks out.  
> Paul stays with Emma.
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!:(All are located in the last section) Panic Attacks, Mental-breakdowns, Self-Deprecation, Insomnia, PTSD, Grief, Not Eating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song "Nine" by Sleeping at Last
> 
> So, I promised myself this would be a short chapter, and then the next thing I knew I wrote over five thousand words. I am so sorry.

John’s head was spinning...and he thought he’d seen everything in his time with the Black and White. 

As he re-emerged in the Black and White, he was met by an enthusiastic Ethan, who walked over to him with a spring in his step. 

“So…” he started, a grin spreading across his face “How’d it go seein’ the mister?” 

As Ethan got closer, he recognized John’s expression.

“Oh...that bad, huh?”

John shook his head, “You may want to see this…” 

With a wave of his fingers, a doorway poised to return to the scene he’d just witnessed.

“This happened maybe an hour before where this reality’s present is now,” John explained, not caring that the statement made little sense (damn the fact that the Black and White was outside of time), “Watch it.”

Ethan nodded, a confused expression on his face, and walked through the doorway. 

When he’d come to the decision to visit Xander again, he had been expecting to see his favorite theoretical physicist in action again. He’d been ready to actually see what Xander could do when he wasn’t around. It was painful, but it was also...kinda cathartic. 

What he hadn’t expected was to see the rules of the Black and White...which had been strict and unbending since he and Ethan had been there...be broken when Paul managed to save Emma’s life. 

He missed having concepts of time apply to the Black and White...returning to Hatchetfield had been odd for him...suddenly the concept of time that he had valued and treasured had returned to him. Suddenly the colors of the sky and him had become close friends again. He’d forgotten how the progression of color from blue into purple into orange had been one of his favorite things. He’d also missed the way Xander would hum to himself as he worked, verbally processing the things as they went on around him. Why had he avoided visiting Xander in the past? If he could even refer to his experiences in the Black and White as being past experiences. 

Being in the Black and White, an area beyond time, beyond color, beyond Xander, could be described as his own personal hell. 

In spite of himself, he hadn’t complained and had accepted his new role as someone who would watch, trying to offer what help he could...he’d offered both Foster sisters help in all of the past resets...what good had it done if he’d failed time and time again. 

He was going to visit Xander again. No doubt the sensors had picked up _whatever the hell_ had happened back there. If anyone could figure it out... it was Xander. He swallowed a moment of pride as he waited for Ethan to return. 

It was then that he realized he wasn’t alone. 

He whirled around, expecting to see Paul...but instead found an all too familiar face.

The man was taller than he was, with black hair that was slicked back with copious amounts of hair gel. He wore denim on denim...which was a hideous combination...but it seemed to add to the sinister look the man wore, his unearthly green eyes boring into John. 

The newcomer chuckled, “Hello John.”

John didn’t flinch, even at the painfully familiar voice. 

He sighed as the words fell from his mouth, “Hello, Wilbur.”

\---

Ethan couldn’t believe it. 

_No way._

_No. Fucking. Way._

As he’d gone through the doorway that Johnny had made, he didn’t know what to expect.

In all the resets they’d watched together he’d never seen Johnny look...rattled. 

He didn’t expect this. 

_At first, he had been confused...why was he back in front of that crappy coffee shop?_

_Nothing seemed out of place. Everything certainly looked normal. The smell of coffee was crappy and the day was very obviously hot...so, an average summer afternoon in Hatchetfield. God, had he been capable of feeling anything, he would have probably regretted wearing his leather jacket when he’d died...never mind that it’d been late November when that had happened._

Man, _he kinda wished humanity could have lasted longer before nuking one another. That way he could have haunted Goldstein and the angry guy in the baseball cap for kicking him to death._

_As he took in the almost painfully familiar scenery that surrounded Hatchetfield, he wondered what was so important, so weird, that Johnny had been left shaken._

_“Hello Ethan,” a small, familiar voice said._

_He whirled around to see...Hannah._

_She looked exactly as he remembered, between her ripped jeans marked with grass stains and yellow flannel around her waist. Her brown hair had been braided messily- most-likely done by Lex because he wasn’t around to do it- and fell past her shoulders. Her dark eyes were deep and inquisitive as if she was staring straight into his soul...staring into his...she was looking straight at him._

_At first, he didn’t know what to say._

_“B...Banana?” He’d asked...tears pricking the backs of his eyes._

_She_ could _see him._

 _She could_ see _him._

 _She could see_ him. 

_She nodded with a small smile, “You’re not in the moment. Just visiting.”_

_“You…” he started hesitantly, “You know who I am?”_

_She smiled again, a rare thing, but beautiful and made his heart melt all the same, “Webby says you’re good. California. Loved Lexi.”_

_He nodded, tears fighting their ways past his eyes, “Banana Split...I’m so sorry-”_

_She shook her head then, “No apologies. Just watch.”_

_Her face turned vacant again and she gestured across the street._

_“What’re you doing here, Banana?” He asked, looking down at her again, “Why can you-” she didn’t let him finish._

_“Watching...like you.” She murmured, pointing across the street again, “Webby told me. Just like John told you.”_

_He followed her hand to see a familiar woman - Emma- making her way down the sidewalk when she turned and seemed to notice Hannah._

_She gave Hannah a small wave, which she hadn’t reciprocated, focusing primarily on Emma herself. He noted Paul trailing behind her, unseen by anybody, a fond expression on his dopey face. He knew that because this was a rewatch of a moment, Paul, despite being a Black and White ghost himself, wouldn’t be able to see him...so why could Hannah?_

_He’d known upon meeting her that she was...special. But now the word had taken a new meaning.  
_

_At first, he’d taken her ramblings about Webby, the Spider from outer space with a grain of salt and little seriousness. She was a kid that was different, with no friends, the creation of an imaginary friend was bound to happen. He’d played along with Lex when he’d first learned about Webby. In some ways, he’d thought it was cute. It made the girl’s sage and cryptic sayings a little bit endearing._

_Now that the Black and White had been his home for...he didn’t even know how long...he knew that she was_ really _special._

_His girls were special to him. But they were also special in a way most people couldn’t even believe._

_He was both terrified and relieved to hear his name come from her mouth. After what felt like an eternity of watching her with the knowledge that he didn’t exist to her, he’d resigned himself to the position of a quiet guardian. Even though he couldn’t intervene when their mom got violent, or he couldn’t deck Frank for being a dick on days when Lex needed some grace, he would always be watching over his girls...hopefully, that wasn’t creepy._

_“Broken souls. Glue.” Hannah muttered sagely._

_He turned to look at her to ask what she meant, but at that moment the squealing of tires against the crappy, worn-down pavement followed by a loud crash muted him._

_He flinched at the noise but Hannah didn’t, much to his surprise- Hannah had never been one to like loud noises. Instead, she watched, unshaken by the noise._

_It was a car crash, Ethan could see, a dented red jalopy had careened into a telephone pole. Why had John shown him this?_

_“Not looking,” Hannah told him, nudging him before pointing back at Emma._

_He looked and saw that the woman was frozen, staring at the wreck. All color had left her face. He recognized the symptoms of a panic attack, having seen them in both Lex and Hannah- and even himself- several times before._

_As the telephone pole began to collapse nearly right on top of her, he thought for a moment he was about to watch Emma die...again._

_But Hannah didn’t turn away...so he kept watching._

_Suddenly, Paul managed to tackle Emma to the ground, out of the way of the telephone pole, which would have crushed her had she waited there for a moment longer._

_He blinked._

Paul tackled her to the ground.

_He didn’t ghost her...like it normally would._

_A man phased through him, narrowly avoiding slamming into Hannah as he made his way over to Emma, who looked shell-shocked as she looked around frantically. Paul, who was laying right behind her, seemed like he was about to pass out as his big eyes whipped between Emma and his hands._

_The man who’d passed through him was being trailed by John, he recognized him as John’s husband...the one he tried so hard not to talk to._

_“Hannah...what-” he turned back to look at her, but she was gone._

_He looked back at the scene, John’s husband was looking down at an iPad, his brows furrowed over his cool sunglasses._

_Emma, in the meantime, was being helped up by a paramedic as Paul trailed after her, an aimless look in her eyes._

_John seemed ..._ off.

When he returned to the Black and White, he found John again… staring aimlessly at the sea of blackness. 

“What the _fuck_ was that?” He demanded. 

John whirled around, his eyes were fixed in a steely manner upon him. 

“I don’t know how...but Paul managed to push Emma out of the way-”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that!” Ethan interrupted, “But how come _Hannah_ could see it?”

John paled, “What?” 

Ethan nodded vehemently, “I ended up right next to her when I walked through the door. And she _looked up at me._ She said my name and everything!” 

John looked down, as if trying to remember something important, “I don’t remember seeing Hannah there…” he murmured. 

“Well, she was!” Ethan exclaimed, “And she wasn’t surprised that I was there at all!” 

John looked up at him again, “She knew who you were?”

Ethan nodded again, “She said that Webby told her.”

At this, John’s shoulders noticeably slumped over, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Three resets…” He muttered, “Three resets and Hannah could never see you.”

“What does it mean?” Ethan asked, “Why all of the sudden does Webby _care_ enough to let Hannah know we’re here.”

John sighed, “Because...somethings going to happen...It always does.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, “But...no...n-no, we’ve only had a few months...it’s never been this...this _soon._ ”

“I never said that it’d be soon,” John said, “But it is coming...whether you or I want it to.”

“How do you know?” Ethan asked, “Do you know which one it is?”

John shook his head, “I was given a very non-specific warning.”

Ethan snorted, “From who?”

“You know who.” 

Ethan's eyes widened, “You mean…”

“Yes.”

“ _Why?!?”_ Ethan cried, “Since Black Friday, Wiley hasn’t bothered to come after us… I thought he didn’t care enough to bother us with his bullshit!” 

“So did I.” 

“Why now? Why are things being thrown all outta wack?”

“I think…” John said hesitantly, trailing his gaze off into the still-open doorway, “...It’s because of Paul.”

\---

Reset No. 6

Date: July 2nd, 2018

Being Unknown

Back at PEIP headquarters, Xander poured over the data collected from yesterday's car-crash incident. 

The readings were off the charts. 

If the data from the coffee shop had been within the parameters, then the car crash was indicative of a full-on interdimensional _collision_ (no poorly-timed pun, intended). 

The barista -whose name he’d learned was Emma- had been escorted away before he could ask her of the experience any further. Though he was sure by the look of how shaken she’d been she would have probably told him to go away. 

There wasn’t much in the databases about her, only that she’d graduated from Hatchetfield High in 2003, had a nephew and brother-in-law living in a house on the outskirts of the town, was a botany major at the community college, and had been working at Beanies since late January. 

That, and she’d had an older sister who’d died in a car crash around Christmas of the past year. 

Suddenly, her reaction to yesterday’s incident made perfect sense. 

As Xander perused the data, he’d lost track of time. One hour of analysis had quickly turned into six...which he hadn’t noticed until June had brought him a cup of coffee and yelled at him.

Still, this was the most excited he’d been since...he started working with PEIP. 

Something had happened that had set _every_ sensor on that street off. And he was determined to figure out what it was. This was definitely a phenomenon he wasn’t going to move away from. 

He’d seen the traffic camera footage...he’d watched it about a thousand times. 

The only unusual thing was the way that Emma had been thrust aside...like she had indeed been tackled...but there was nobody there.

He’d tried slowing the footage down, but as the camera footage got slower and slower, he could see no difference. But still, he kept slowing it down as much as he could. Even if it would end up being one thousand frames per second, he would do it. 

June came in again, accompanied by one of the medical personnel, a redheaded woman in the black scrubs that came with their intensive care unit. 

When he’d first met her, he wasn’t so sure that Becky Barnes would be a good fit for PEIP. She seemed more like the type who would have been a pediatric nurse, rather than a PEIP agent, but in her two months of working, she had earned Xanders respect, taking charge when needed. She’d been the reason he’d survived being electrocuted a month before. 

A lot of the other people in their medical department had underestimated her due to her bright eyes and kind smile. Some even sought to use her kindness to their advantage. But there was a strength to her, a strength that not many people would have been able to see. But any intelligent being could see that Becky Barnes was just as much a warrior as anyone at PEIP.

When June saw that Xander was still looking over the data, she let out a loud sigh. 

“Xander,” she said, a chastising tone on her tongue, “When was the last time you slept?”

He didn’t answer. 

Becky piped up, “Mr. Lee, I don’t think it would be the end of the world if you hit the hay for the night.” 

Xander let out a chuckle, “Becky, how many times do I have to tell you you can call me Xander? And _June_ , my sleep schedule is none of your concern.”

Becky let out a nervous chuckle while June sighed. 

“Xander, I can and will put you on unpaid leave if it means getting you to sleep.”

“You’re only a colonel, you can’t do that.”

“I most certainly _can_.” she retorted, “It’s not like we have a boss anyway.” 

“The government is our boss.” 

She clicked her tongue, “Not if they can’t pay us right.” 

“Colonel,” Xander tried to keep his tone as serious as possible, “Are you suggesting going on strike...against the US government?” 

“If it keeps our top scientist in top-shape...then yes.”

Becky let out another nervous laugh, still not quite used to the relationship built on sarcasm between the Colonel and the Major. Xander smiled at the two of them. 

“So...other than lambasting me for my sleep schedule,” he said, staring June dead in the eyes, “What is it that you came down here for?” 

Schaeffer’s face flushed slightly before she finally spoke, “W-well, first off, Xander, sleep is highly important… and...”

“We wanted to check your progress,” Becky finished for her, “You seemed really excited earlier when you came through the breakroom and we wanted to see what you had so far.” 

He forced a fake gasp, “Is the Colonel interested in my work?!”

They’d both been recruited around the same time by PEIP and had become relatively close. They had some things in common. For one thing, they were both openly gay- which was not a commonality for PEIP beforehand (now nearly everyone had come out of the closet)- and for another, they had sick parents who were benefitting from the healthcare side of things (which was weird seeing as how the government and healthcare were not Sympatico at the moment). But whenever he would gush about anything _remotely_ scientific, she would merely roll her eyes and groan loudly over how _boring_ it all was. 

“Shut it, Xander…” Schaeffer murmured. 

“No… no…” he said, ready to bask in his own smugness, “I am honored by this attention…My life is _truly_ complete. Let it be known, Becky, on July second, in the year of our lord-” 

“Lee, I wasn’t kidding about the unpaid leave thing.” She said in a warning tone.

He held up his hands in surrender. Becky bounced over beside him, excited to see the work they’d done.

“So, whatcha got?” She asked excitedly.

Xander showed her the readings, “These energy readings are _completely_ off the charts. The different aspects of the sensors indicate that it was an interdimensional anomaly, but these energy readings are indicative of almost a convergence.”

Becky nodded along, actually understanding.

That was another thing people assumed incorrectly about Becky when they first met her; they mistook her sweet and bubbly nature for a lack of intelligence. If a person were to fall into that particular pit of ignorance, they would be proven wrong within nearly an hour of working with her.

She looked up at the screen, “Is that the footage from where it happened? The anomaly, I mean.”

He nodded, “Around 1:00 yesterday afternoon, Sherman Young was seriously inebriated and took his mother’s car for a joyride, despite lacking a driver's license and ended up ramming into a telephone pole. The pole fell over, nearly crushing a bystanding woman, and breaking at least seven windows on the nearby building. Less than a minute after this happened, all of the sensors on the street collected data that indicated an interdimensional anomaly. ”

“A telephone pole did that much damage!?” She asked, pointing to the totaled car on the screen. 

“He was going _really_ fast,” Xander noted. 

Becky nodded, “Is the woman okay?” She asked, “The one that was nearly crushed?”

“Miss Perkins is fine… she appeared to be really shaken up, but the paramedics got to her before I could ask for her version of the story.”

Becky’s eyes widened, “Perkins? You mean Emma Perkins?” 

Xander nodded in affirmation, “Yeah, she’s a barista at the coffee shop across from where it happened. That coffee shop also was the site of a smaller anomaly the day before...which is why I was on the scene, to begin with. Why? Do you know her?” 

“I-um…” Becky started, her face flushing slightly, “I knew her sister, Jane, and brother-in-law...Tom...in High School.” She looked down, shifting her feet uncomfortably. 

Xander decided not to pry, “I’ve been slowing down the footage as much as I can to see if I can see any physical evidence of an anomaly.” 

“How slow is it now?” Schaeffer asked.

Xander sighed, “1000 frames per second.” 

“And how long is this footage?” 

“A minute and sixteen seconds.” 

“Jesus, Xander.” June sighed in disbelief, “You’re gonna be here all night.” 

“Not with the special scan software!” Xander argued, “And you said I was wasting my time with Rodney’s pet project!” 

Schaeffer massaged her temples annoyedly, “Xander that's over...what? Seventy-six thousand frames for the computer to sort through….”

“Technically there were three traffic cameras, so that makes it two-hundred and twenty-eight thousand frames...but who’s counting?” 

“I swear, Xander…”

“Besides, the software is almost done running!” he exclaimed, “I’ll see any visual changes in just a few moments!” 

As if on cue a small sound came from the computer. 

He rolled his rolling-chair over to the main monitor and clicked on the icon for the scanning software, ready to see the images with any visual anomalies. 

For a moment, he thought he didn’t see anything and quickly grew disappointed until a small yellow banner popped up. 

_Found: 3 Anomaly Images/ 228,000 Images total_

“See, June!?!?” He said, looking back at her, “Three images out of two hundred twenty-eight thousand!” 

“Xander, that’s only like…”

“Three milliseconds is better than nothing!” Becky said enthusiastically. 

Xander raised his eyebrows at her, impressed at how quickly she calculated the total amount of time the anomaly was visual. 

As he clicked on the banner, he grew slightly nervous. What would the anomaly look like? What could have been so bad that it had set off all the sensors on the street? Was it something PEIP would have to worry about?

When the three images popped up on the screen, Xander had noticed nothing so he’d hit the highlighting option, which would color code the varying intensities. Darker colors meant that the anomaly was stronger, while the lighter colors indicated weaker. Pink and red often represented the weakest, while blue and purple represented stronger anomalies. 

Two of the three images seemed to be taken in the milliseconds after Emma had started to fall to the ground it seemed and were very obviously from the same camera. Because the time frames were so small, the two of them looked almost entirely identical. 

Around the car itself, Xander saw no color. The black and white imaging had mostly been blurred by the smoke and cracked wood that was flying through the air as the pole collapsed. 

The first big spot of color was a dark purple that he noticed in the first two images surrounded a person. A little girl with braided pigtails standing outside of the coffee shop doors. Her image was the clearest out of the anomalies, as he was able to make out the stripe pattern on her shirt, and the woven pattern in her hair. With a chill down his spine, he vaguely remembered almost slamming into her on the way out of Beanies. How was this girl an anomaly? 

Next to her, covered in a dark shade of green, there was the blurred figure of a boy. From his physique and stance, Xander would have guessed he was probably eighteen or twenty even. More concerning, however, were the dark splotches that covered his presumably white shirt, barely concealed by what looked like a dark jacket. He hoped to God that it wasn’t blood...maybe it was grease from a mechanics garage or something. He made a mental note to get the two images colorized so he could tell for sure if it was blood. Even stranger, the boy was looking _at the girl_ and not the crash in front of him. 

Even stranger, however, was the fact that he had seen the girl, but _not_ the boy when he’d run out of the shop. 

Was he a ghost? That couldn’t be...the anomalies had been classified as interdimensional, not paranormal. Why had he only seen the girl, when the boy had remained invisible. 

The final splotch of color was a deep sapphire blue, perfectly balanced between the girl and teenage kid outside of the coffee shop doors, and was located around...Emma.

At first, he would have thought that Emma herself was the anomaly...but the way that the color covered a very specific shape and region of her body made him realize that it wasn’t _her_.

He upped the brightness of the image and clicked on the blue region specifically...to see the blurred figure of...a man.

By the looks and difference in the color gradient of the blue, he was wearing a business suit of sorts, but he couldn’t see a tie from the way his figure was enveloped around Emma’s body. His blurred face, however, was facing towards the camera, and the shadowing made it seem like his eyes were closed. The blurred shape of his arms around Emma’s torso made him look...protective. 

Emma’s hushed words echoed in his ears. 

_“Wh-who push-pushed m-me..?”_

Evidently, this anomaly had.

How was an interdimensional, man-shaped anomaly able to protect her? Why would it protect her? Was this like a guardian angel of sorts? 

The next image was almost nearly identical to the first, with the exception that the green boy-shaped splotch (whom he’d decided to call Danny because he vaguely looked like a character from _Grease_ ) had turned into a shade of yellow while the girls' previously purple shade had faded to emerald green. The blue splotch remained the same, enveloped around Emma in a protective embrace, seemingly shoving her out of the way. 

He clicked on the next image to see that the three splotches had all disappeared. Emma was on the ground, propped up on her elbows. He could make out her frightened expression, remembering very clearly the confusion and pain on her face. On her chest, however, barely five pixels large, was a highlighted shade of that same sapphire blue on her chest, right above where her sternum probably was. 

The more noticeable anomaly was what really shocked him. Seeing as how the image was taken moments after the first two, from the same camera, he could see himself exiting the shop...the girl was still there, but the purple color was gone...so was “Danny”. 

Behind him, however, was a shade of Dark turquoise, following him around. The figure was mostly blurred, but like the anomaly that had protected Emma and “Danny”, it was shaped like a person. The turquoise anomaly was about his height and was trailing right behind him. Unlike the image of the girl, “Danny”, and Emma’s protector, the person’s figure was completely blurred so that it was a miracle that he had even been able to distinguish the form of a man. 

An anomaly had been right behind him! 

Becky cleared her throat, “What are they?”

Xander shook his head in disbelief, “I don’t know...but I’m gonna find out.”

He turned to Schaeffer and Becky, “Keep this under-wraps, please, just until I find out more…”

They nodded and Xander quickly saved the images to his personal private drive. 

He turned to Becky and Schaeffer again, “On that note…can you do me a favor?” he said, unsure of how much any of them would gain from it, “Could you maybe bring in Emma Perkins tomorrow? I have some questions I want to ask her.”

\---

Reset No. 6

Date: July 3rd

Being Unknown

Paul had stayed with Emma through the next two nights, trying over and over again to provide comfort as she worked herself through the wake of her panic attack, with no avail. 

After five hours of crying ceaselessly, she’d fallen into a restless sleep, waking up every so often-after tossing and turning endlessly- to cry some more. 

When the clock on her bedside table read 4:30 AM on Monday morning, she finally fell into a consistent sleep, snoring softly, having worn herself out over the grueling past few hours. 

She’d woken up a few hours later, had called into work, and had spent that day in a haze, passing in between staring out the window and crying all over again. 

This was a pattern that had lasted all of Monday.

She was exhausted and more of a wreck than he had ever seen her.

She couldn't even bring herself to change out of her Beanies uniform or take a shower. She didn't eat either, which had worried him. 

There had been moments like this in the past reset when they were together, where she would get extremely low and stop eating...but never had it ever gotten _this_ bad.

There were moments when she would walk into the bathroom and berate herself for crying. He could hear her voice fill with tears as she called herself things such as 'weak' and 'pathetic'. All the things she most definitely _was not._

He’d wanted so badly to take her in his arms again, to let her know that he was there and he would help her if she wanted him to. To let her know how strong and perfect she truly was. To provide comfort as long as she would have him. He mourned being able to stroke her back or her hair when she was struggling like this. Still, he stayed beside her. Feeling useless as she cried. 

That isn't saying that he hadn't tried. He tried so many times to rub her back, to whisper calming and encouraging words to her, to let her know that she was worth so much more than she valued herself. But nothing would come across. 

Still, he kept trying.

He even tried screaming, as if the raised volume would reach her better. It didn't reach her and he knew that his yelling wasn't going to help himself in any way and _certainly_ not Emma, even if she could hear it. He didn't try screaming again. 

He’d breathed a sigh of relief once she’d fallen asleep on Monday night (even if it was at 4:00 AM again), having been exhausted and tuckered out from over 24 hours of crying and self-deprecation, even if she would inevitably get up in the next few hours to go to work. Had she been able to hear him, he would have told her to call in...but she would have refused because she was stubborn like that. 

He wondered if she'd been bottling up all the grief from Jane's death, and that was why the breakdown over the close-call with the car had been so severe. He'd known Emma was not all that great at confronting emotion, and Jane's death at this point in the reset was still very much a raw and sensitive wound. He tried not to make logic of her grief and instead chose to remain by her side.

He decided to wait with her until she woke up, just in case she needed to break down again. He knew it was silly to wait in hopes that he could help her, how he’d managed to save her life the day before was a mystery, but he had hope that he could make his presence known to her again. 

Although, the timing to make himself known as a ghost-like, interdimensional, not-quite-dead, boyfriend from a past life was most likely not the best. He would probably have scared her more, which is something he most definitely _did not_ want to do. He also didn’t want to leave her alone like this. Even if she felt alone, he wanted to be there, just to make sure she was okay. 

So he decided to stay, but keep enough distance he could prevent something from happening that would freak her out. 

She’d been asleep for a little over an hour when a loud knock sounded on her apartment door. 

He bit back the urge to hiss at them or scream at them to go away- not that they’d be able to hear him. It was 5:56 in the morning and Emma was the quintessential post-breakdown sleep-deprived. He knew, having been there himself several times.

The fact that it was so early gave people enough reasons _not_ to knock in the first place. But alas, he had forgotten people lacked courtesy.

He prayed that after the first knock, that maybe it would be a mistake and they would go away. But still, the knocking persisted- which was pointless as Emma had woken up with the second repeat of knocking, muttering a “fuck off” under her breath. 

After the fourth round of harsh knocking, Emma had groaned and muttered curses under her breath as she dragged herself out of bed towards the source of the annoying noise. She was still in her Beanies uniform, having lacked the strength or direction to change after getting home the afternoon before. Her hair was a ratty mess of tangles and some of the bobby pins that had kept her messy bun in place were dangling down on the loose curls. Her eyes were puffy and swollen from a full night of crying and the makeup she’d thrown on haphazardly two days before was smeared and almost completely gone. 

Paul was furious on her behalf. Couldn’t people just be nice for once and visit people at normal hours?!

As Emma tugged her apartment door open with a groan, she was greeted by two women. 

One was a tall, buff, stern-looking woman, with red-brown curls pulled into a short ponytail at the back of her head. She wore a black uniform and a beret that looked suspiciously like the one John wore. Her stern expression didn’t waver or even flinch at the miserable sight of Emma, who was now leaning against the door, fighting the urge to go back to sleep. 

The second woman was Becky Barnes. 

In the past reset, Becky and Paul had become acquaintances after she and Tom had started dating- much to Emma’s chagrin. She was a nurse at Saint Damien’s wasn’t she? He honestly didn’t know that much about her other than she was the personification of human sunshine. His opinion of her was slightly lessened when he saw her on the other side of the door but he managed to offer slight mental forgiveness. How was Becky to know what Emma was feeling at the time?

Unlike the first woman, her expression turned piteous as she took in the sight of Emma.

“Emma Perkins?” The first woman asked. 

Emma let out a slight grunt in acknowledgment. 

“I am Colonel June Schaeffer, and I would like to ask you to come with us please.”

Emma cracked one eye open and flinched at the sight of Becky, she murmured more curses under her breath. 

Becky turned to the Colonel, Paul’s thought process appearing on her face alongside a pleading look in her eyes, “Let's let her freshen up, huh? She’s obviously not gotten much sleep.”

The Colonel paused for a moment before looking at Emma, “You have one hour to take a shower and get changed if you so please. Becky and I here will make you coffee, and then you are to come with us.”

 _Okay, rude,_ Paul thought to himself. Emma probably needed a full day's worth of sleep. 

Emma murmured a noncommittal curse under her breath again, before looking up. 

“Why?” she whispered, her vocal cords hoarse and worn after a full day worth of crying. 

The Colonel, unflinching again, answered with a simple, “We have some questions for you, Ma’am.”

Becky looked guilty for a moment before offering Emma a slight smile.

“So,” she said awkwardly as if trying to avoid Emma collapsing on the spot, “How do you like your coffee?” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry Danny Zuko!Ethan Green out of my cold hands.  
> OHMYGODITS B E C K Y B A R N E S  
> Sorry for the LOOOOONG chapter. I swear I'm gonna get better at restraint.  
> Paul is a good not-quite-dead, boyfriend from a past life, but he also respects Emma's space and tries to help her as much as he can...even if it isn't much.
> 
> Guys, seriously, describing Emma's breakdown in the last section was rough. Getting low like that is brutal and it hurts so much. Please know how much you mean to the world. You matter. You are loved. Even when you can't see it, you mean so much. 
> 
> How are you guys doing? I hope you guys have a great day and I really appreciate you!!  
> Thank you so much for reading this extremely long narrative of nonsense!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	8. Looked Right Through Me As If I Wasn't There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma has had a really bad week...and it's only Tuesday.  
> Becky thinks about the past.  
> Paul, as per usual, is confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Killing Me Softly With His Song"...which now that I think about it is kinda ironic in terms of TGWDLM. 
> 
> There are mentions of underage drug abuse in the second section, but it's mostly implied and nothing too bad.

Reset No. 6

Date: July 3rd, 2018

Being Unknown

At this point, Emma was convinced that life hated her. 

She should have stayed in Guatemala. 

Sure, they had volcanoes and coatimundis everywhere, but she’d prefer picking up skewed garbage to the week she’d been having. 

After the God-awful day at work she’d had two days before, topped over with the probably-near-death car accident experience she’d had, followed immediately by a panic attack that prevented her from sleeping into the obscene hours of the morning for the next 24 hours, she’d made the mistake of assuming her week couldn’t get any worse. 

She’d forgotten of course, that the car incident was on _fucking Sunday_.

It was Tuesday now, the day before having passed in a haze of pain and crying. 

Her body felt empty and lacking energy...probably because she hadn’t eaten anything in the past...forty-eight hours. 

So...naturally the universe decided to kick her while she was down and have her woken up at 6:00 AM by some military woman and _Becky Barnes_.

Of all the cruel, sick, and twisted jokes the universe could play on her, they just _had_ to play the one involving a woman she’d hated all throughout high school- a woman who she was pretty sure her brother-in-law was still in love with, even though he’d been married to Jane for nearly a decade. 

To make matters worse, she was probably getting kidnapped by the government.

What had she done to get questioned by the government? What did they want with a barista who had little to nothing to offer the world? What would they want with someone with maybe less than five percent of a botany degree completed, so she could grow and sell weed?

Had she done something wrong? She couldn’t think of anything illegal she’d done since she left Hatchetfield all those years ago.

So far, the most illegal thing she’d done since returning to Hatchetfield was give Hannah and Lex those two banana bread slices and that coffee for free...which she wouldn’t put it past this fucked-up country to question her for helping people. 

Still, the military was involved? What had she done to gain their attention?

When she’d been told not-so-gently by the Colonel (...Shanker? She decided to just call her “The Bitch” in her brain) to go take a shower, she’d realized how awful she must have looked. She figured it couldn’t be any worse than how she felt.

It was almost like being hungover. She couldn’t remember a time since her teenage years when she’d had a panic attack that bad. 

She considered slamming the door in their faces, but was too tired to be angry and instead gestured vaguely as a means of letting them in. Becky had brightly begun chatting away, trying to make the situation less tense, but Emma was too tired to ask her to stop talking. Instead, she’d told her how she took her coffee, or how she wanted it today...black with three sugars and a little bit of milk and set off to go take a shower.

She was still in the same clothes as she had been in on Sunday, they smelled vaguely of sweat and exhaustion if that was a normal combination that people could easily register. One look in her tiny bathroom mirror and she instantly flinched at the sight. To say that she looked like a mess would have been putting it nicely.

As she took in her appearance, she noted that her eyes were red and puffy from the lack of sleep and abundance of crying. In the light of her bathroom, her eyes stung and watered again. What was left of her makeup had smeared on her cheeks, like a toddler had attempted to put it on her, and then decided to pour water over her? She couldn’t stop shaking, almost like she needed a hit of something, too bad that she was too poor to afford anything of that kind as of right now. 

She knew it wouldn’t be easy to comb out the rat’s nest that her hair had become over the course of the past two days. Still, she began to pick the few pins and clips still left in her hair out of the mess and turned on the shower in hopes that the apartment complex’s water heater hadn’t given out again. Long story short, it had. 

In some ways the cold water had snapped her out of the daze she’d been trapped in, shocking her into action and getting out of the shower as quickly as possible. As she lazily scrubbed away at the dirt and sweat and pain that she’d worn for the past few days, she tried to keep her mind clear and free of the thoughts that had made her miserable. 

Less than ten minutes later, she dragged herself out of the stream of cold water and threw on a sports bra, and the oversized sweatshirt and leggings she had worn as pajamas the night before the incident. Her hair was still slightly tangled, but she threw it into a messy top knot anyway, contemplating brushing her teeth all the while. 

When she emerged from her bedroom, she found Becky Barnes standing at the tiny stove stirring a pan of something that smelled fucking heavenly. 

Becky looked up and offered Emma a smile, “I figured you might be hungry so I made you some breakfast.” At Emma’s expression, she smiled weakly, “ I hope that was okay?”

Emma’s stomach protested loudly at the scent and she managed a curt nod. How dare this woman be so nice and difficult to hate?

As she stumbled over to her small table which was crammed into the corner of the petty excuse for a kitchen/living room/office combination, she was startled by the looming presence of the military Bitch, who was standing resolutely by the window, watching her intently.

Becky passed a small plate in front of Emma, a kind smile on her face, “Go ahead and eat, I’ll grab the coffee.”

Emma said nothing and just stared at the food for a little bit. Would the military poison her? Becky didn’t _seem_ like the type for murder...she was way too nice for it, but the military bitch...maybe. 

“I’d suggest you eat, Miss Perkins,” The Bitch said, her tone nearly robotic, “ You’ve got a long day ahead of you.” 

“I have-” 

“We’ve notified your professors and employer that you won’t be able to come in today.” She said, cutting Emma off, “So please, eat.”

Emma considered not eating just to spite the woman, but the smell of the eggs was too enticing. She started to wolf down the eggs, realizing just how hungry she was. At some point, Becky had placed a cup of coffee beside her, she drank it with relish. She nodded at Becky as a quiet form of thanks, in spite of her opinions of her. 

Once she had finished eating, she stumbled back to the kitchen to haphazardly drop the dishes into the sink. 

“You ready to go, Miss Perkins?” The Bitch called out, growing noticeably impatient.

She heard Becky murmur something along the lines of, “Be patient” and had to stifle a groan. She pulled on her raggedy pair of combat boots that she’d left by her bedroom door and walked to them, hoping they’d get the message of “Let’s get this over with”

She briefly wondered if this woman even was a Colonel as she had claimed. There was no badge or certification shown...the only reassuring factor was that Becky was there. Maybe that was the point of her presence. 

_Oh, what the hell,_ Emma thought bitterly, _If I get murdered by this woman then at least this fuckin’ week will be over._

\---

Becky knew a mental breakdown when she’d seen one. And seeing the face of Emma Perkins was enough to indicate that the woman was not in any state to be questioned. Still, Schaeffer and Xander persisted and were stubborn and had wanted her brought in anyway. 

She figured that the woman hadn’t slept much or eaten anything since the car-incident. She could see from the footage alone that she’d been frozen to her place, unable to get herself to move away from the danger. Survival instincts or not, Emma was exhibiting every post-breakdown symptom Becky could see. 

It puzzled her why Xander had asked her to go with June to retrieve her. She wasn’t necessarily a field agent. Was it because of Jane? Was it because she was good with relatively emotionally unstable people where June wasn’t? Was it because of...Tom?

She knew the reason couldn’t have been because of any personal connection to Emma, because Becky knew that Emma hated her decidedly.

How could she not? 

Ever since high school, Emma had made sure to avoid the cheerleaders and jocks, particularly because her brilliant sister, Jane, had liked them. 

Jane had been the mother of their friend group in high school. She was a senior when Tom Houston (Becky’s then-boyfriend, who would later become Jane’s husband) was a junior, and Becky had been a sophomore. Becky, having caught the eyes of everyone on the cheerleading squad and Tom, a rising football star, had been drawn into Jane’s close group of friends.   
At first, Becky had thought it was their way of making a top-skilled group. A class of people so far above anyone else, that they would far exceed the expectations of anyone in the school...but in reality, Jane had wanted to help them, and they had almost looked up to her like she was this indestructible force of nature.

Becky didn’t know Jane very well, but when she did see her, she’d known her to be funny, smart, cunning, and always able to tell when someone was lying. On top of that, Jane was the valedictorian of her class and was set to go to college with a promising pursuit of a degree in law. In addition, Jane was beautiful. With bouncy brown curls that fell around her round face, and big brown eyes that seemed to be always teasing you or figuring you out. Her smile and laugh had been infectious and had always made Becky and Tom feel included in the group. 

When Jane had left for college, Emma had become a freshman. 

While Jane had towered over most people (even Tom for a short while before he’d hit the end of his growth spurt) Emma was short. Having been 5’3 since she was twelve, and being a scrawny child, Emma almost always looked in danger of being run over by people in the hallways. 

If Jane had been a force of nature, she would have been a gentle rainstorm. 

Emma, on the other hand, was a full-blown _hurricane._

At first, Becky had wanted to help the girl figure herself out in high school, much like Jane had for her, but it became clear that Emma hadn’t wanted anything to do with her sister's friends. 

While Becky had been involved in athletics and cheerleading, Emma was a theatre kid...and even _there_ she didn’t really seem to fit in. For the most part, it had looked like the younger Perkins sister didn’t care as much about her studies...or at least that was the rumor circulated amongst teachers and other students. 

After a while, Becky had stopped trying. 

Then her relationship with Tom had come and passed when he shipped out. 

Then she met Stanley and graduated. 

Then she got married and went to nursing school. 

Then Tom came back and married Jane. 

Then Jane _died_. 

And then…

She shoved the thoughts of last December away as she sat next to Emma in the backseat of their nondescript PEIP vehicle. 

At first, she’d not known what being an agent of PEIP would be like. She’d known she’d wanted to continue in the medical field, but she could never go back to Saint Damien's without feeling like she was going to throw up. 

Instead, she’d been approached by June Schaeffer, and recruited to be a member of the medical division, offering her a new home, security, _protection_ , and stability. All things she hadn’t felt like she had since Tom left. 

At first, It’d been difficult for her to make acquaintance with anyone, seeing as how everyone immediately assumed she was pathetic or weak just because she was nice, but Schaeffer had been cordial for the most part, and Xander was nice enough. She was still just trying to find her footing in the organization first. 

As the car drove to the base, she couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at Emma, who was just sitting there, playing with some of the strands of her still-damp hair that had fallen from the messy top knot, winding and tangling them around her fingers. 

She’d grown up a lot since the last time Becky had seen her. 

She vaguely remembered passing by a few stoner kids in high school and not having to look back to know that the skinny fifteen-year-old was among them.

She’d always struck Becky as a wanderer. Someone who had never truly been able to find their perfect niche. Someone who was an outlier regardless of where they were.

Becky had never been able to understand that restlessness in her youth- having been popular and well-liked by nearly everyone back in the day- but now it was a feeling she knew all too well. 

The younger woman glanced at her, “So…” she said, her voice obviously scratchy from what Becky could only assume had been hours of crying, “You work for the government?” 

Becky managed a smile, “Kinda.”

Emma snorted humorlessly, “So, what’d I do?” 

Becky quirked an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if the government is kidnapping me then I must have done something”

“It’s just questioning, E-” She held off from using Emma’s name. 

Emma said nothing, focusing on the movement of her fingers through the hair. 

“I’m sorry…” Becky said, not knowing why she did, “About Jane.”

Emma noticeably stiffened and stared at the ground, her eyes widening slightly. Becky could tell she was trying desperately to stifle something of a pained gasp. 

_Bad move, Becky,_ she chastised herself, _Of course, she doesn’t want to talk about Jane_

She merely nodded and went back to playing with her hair, staring furiously at Schaeffer’s head in front of her. 

Becky let her mind wander back to when Jane had died. She’d wanted to go to the funeral...and _not_ just to see the grieving widower. Jane had been her friend too, in high school. They’d developed a trusting bond, and had made the most of even the most difficult days, something Becky’s ex-husband most certainly couldn’t do. 

Becky sighed, wagering another quick glance at Emma, this was going to be a long day. 

\---

Paul had decided that he was going to stay with Emma a little longer when the military lady said she was going to be taken in for questioning. 

He’d been...confused, to say the least. Which was a common thread in a great deal of how he functioned nowadays. 

Why was the military suddenly interested in Emma? He hoped that he hadn’t inadvertently gotten her into any form of trouble. 

He had been sitting in the backseat in between Emma and Becky, watching as Emma tried very hard to avoid looking at Becky. 

He could admire Becky for being as gracious as she was at this hour, especially when Emma seemed to be a few seconds away from strangling just about anybody. Whoever these people were, their timing sucked. 

When the car slowed to a stop and the doors were opened for Becky and Emma, he noticed a watch on the military woman’s wrist...eerily similar to the one John had shown him.

Since Paul had been trapped in the Black and White, he had often been lectured by John about the presence of time and how it was precious to the universe as a whole. In spite of the Black and White being outside of the influence of time itself, John was adamant that time was one of the most important components of the universe. He’d lectured both Paul and Ethan on it so much when they were together, that the two often shared annoyed glances as the man went on his tirade time and time again. However, with each lecture, John had proudly shown them a watch he’d received supposedly among recruitment into PEIP so that no agent would lose track of time. Paul hadn’t understood. Was punctuality a major facet of PEIP’s organization? Regardless, the watch meant a great deal to John, and Paul couldn’t judge him for sentimentality. 

This is why, when he noticed a similar watch on the military lady’s wrist, he realized just _who_ had come to question Emma. 

The military woman was a PEIP agent. 

Was Becky a PEIP agent too? How had she gotten wrapped up in all of this? 

With a sinking feeling, he realized that this probably had something to do with _him_ after all. PEIP stood for Paranormal, Extraterrestrial, Interdimensional Phenomena. 

He literally _was_ an interdimensional ghost-thing. And after what had happened on Sunday...He definitely had something to do with this. 

Upon stepping out of the car, he noticed quickly that they were in some kind of bunker-like garage, clean and white with several nondescript vehicles of dark colors. 

“Follow me please, Miss Perkins,” the military woman said before walking off towards one of the few exit hallways. 

He followed the trio of women through a series of nearly identical hallways, all looking like something out of a _Star Wars_ or _Star Trek_ movie. The clean white paneling and eerily similar doors gave him no idea of where Emma was being taken. 

As the military woman marched down the corridors, he noticed Emma looking back, as if planning an escape route in her mind. He could see her internally berating herself for tagging along with some nondescript people who claimed to be military. He knew better though.

Finally, Becky and the Colonel came to a stop in front of a door.

“In here, Miss Perkins.” 

Emma simply nodded, expressionless, and walked in, Becky followed while the military lady...closed them in. 

Red flags were blaring in his mind. Emma wouldn’t be able to get out! He still didn’t know PEIP’s motives? What if they sent Emma into a spiral again? What if she panicked and wouldn’t be able to leave the base? What if, in this reset, PEIP was evil and was planning on using Emma as a means of accessing the Black and White? What if they used it to unwittingly unleash whatever inevitable horror that would bring about the next end of Hatchetfield? What if he had to watch Emma…

No. He couldn’t think of that. Not again. 

Instead of letting his worries consume him, he phased through the door, since matter was practically nothing to him anymore. The room matched the hallways and the garage, with clean white paneling. At the center of the room sat a table, with two cups of coffee, and three chairs that surrounded it. Two on one side, one on the other. With a start, Paul realized that Emma was in an interrogation room of sorts. 

Becky gestured to one of the chairs, for Emma to sit down in, but Emma hesitated. 

“Am I being interrogated?” She asked, her voice still raw and hoarse.

Becky looked a little taken aback, “N-not really…”

“Then what is this?” She demanded, a little bit of the anger seeping through her exhaustion.

“It’s an interview, Miss Perkins.” A new voice said. 

All three of them whirled around to see the man they hadn’t seen come in. The man who’d been at the scene two days before. The guy with the cool sunglasses. 

John’s husband. 

Unlike on Sunday, John was nowhere to be seen. Paul didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

The man offered Emma a small smile, but she merely looked confused, “Matrix-glasses guy?” she questioned. 

If Paul hadn’t been extremely confused and concerned, he would have laughed. The man didn’t look threatening, unlike the Colonel...but there was still so much more about this situation that he didn’t understand, so he didn’t want to immediately make assumptions.

The man let out a small chuckle and removed his sunglasses- why was he wearing those inside? Was he hungover? This gesture only seemed to annoy Emma further. 

“What the hell is this?” She said, gesturing between the man and Becky. She looked just about as confused and concerned as Paul felt. 

“Miss Perkins, my name is Major Xander Lee of the United States Military…” he extended a hand for her to shake, she didn’t take it, “Special Unit P.E.I.P. We call it PEIP.” 

Emma shook her head, “I don’t care who the hell you are! I want to know what I did wrong.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Miss Perkins,” John’s husband- Xander- said calmly, “We just want some answers about the incident that occurred Sunday afternoon.” 

He gestured for her to take a seat as he took his place at the table, Becky sitting down beside him. Emma hesitated again before shaking her head. 

“Miss Perkins,” Xander tried to reason with her, “Please, we just want answers.”

“You act as though I have any!” Emma exclaimed, “Well, I don’t...a guy nearly hit me, but instead decided to try and crush me with a telephone pole and failed.”

“There’s a lot more to it than that.” Xander reasoned, raising an eyebrow, “And I think you know it…”

Emma seemed to consider this for a second, “What...what do you mean?” 

“You said that someone pushed you out of the way, yes?” Xander said, “Wouldn’t you like to figure out who?”

Paul felt like his heart could stop in his chest. Did Xander know what he’d done? How could he? Paul technically _did not_ exist. 

Not to his parents.

Not to Bill and Alice

Not to his coworkers. 

Not to _Emma._

But then, of course, Xander _was_ an agent of a top-secret government agency that specialized in things like this…

But if Paul had been found out by this agency in some form or fashion, would he be considered a threat? After all, in this reset, he’d never existed. 

Emma raised an eyebrow at Xander’s suggestion, “I probably just stumbled out of the way…”

“You know that’s not true,” Xander said, “We just want some answers, and then we’ll let you return home.” 

Maybe Xander only knew about the presence of an anomaly, not that it was a person. Maybe he only knew that _something_ had intervened...not a person who was once alive in a past version of this reality who was trapped in the void and space between _every existing reality_.

A damning thought hit his brain and his breath caught in his throat, making him cough slightly, not that anyone would notice. 

_What if he’d done something that would harm Emma even when he didn’t exist?!?_

He inhaled and exhaled sharply as he began to rub the skin of his knuckles together furiously. Anxiety was making his head spin and his chest ache slightly...which was weird because he hadn’t experienced pain before in the Black and White. 

Emma didn’t seem to believe Xander but sat down all the same with a sigh. Paul tried to put a hand on her shoulder again, but phased through, to his disappointment.

He tried to avoid thinking about all the What-ifs, however extremely difficult it may have been, and tried to focus mainly on Emma...who was shifting uncomfortably and playing with her fingers in her lap. 

Xander nodded and looked at Becky before hitting a button on the side of the table.

“Okay, then, let's begin…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moral of the story is Becky is sunshine personified, Emma is a sleep-deprived hurricane (and I like her so much), and Paul is more confused than ever. 
> 
> Sorry that this chapter was mainly a filler, but the next one is going to be exciting. We've officially surpassed everything I'd written prior to posting this fic, so the updates might be a little more spaced out.  
> I am really excited about the direction it's going!
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos, as I would love to hear what you're thinking!!!  
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you all have a great day!!! :) :) :)
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	9. I'm Bound By the Life You Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma's interview with Xander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this title comes from Evanescence's "My Immortal", and it's highly likely that the lyrics will be found in future titles as well. 
> 
> This chapter is formatted differently, so it might take some getting used to.

Reset No. 6

Date: July 3rd, 2018

Being Unknown

* * *

PEIP INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPTION FORM

INTERDIMENSIONAL ANOMALY

CASE INTERVIEW #0001 TRANSCRIPT

* * *

RE: SQUIRREL STREET CAR CRASH INCIDENT 

DATE: 07/03/2018

TIME INITIATED: 7:05 A.M. CTZ

TIME TERMINATED: 7:48 AM CTZ

SUBJECT: Perkins, Emma Juliet

SUBJECT OCCUPATION: Barista (Beanies-Coffee Shop), Cashier (Barnes and Noble- Lakeside Mall) 

INTERVIEWER: Lee, Xander James (Major)

INTERVIEWER ACCESS CODE: AF7890

WITNESS: Barnes, Rebecca “Becky” Lorraine (Agent) 

WITNESS ACCESS CODE: VR5621

TECHNICAL WITNESS: Schaeffer, June Patricia (Colonel)

TECHNICAL WITNESS ACCESS CODE: TW4329

* * *

-INTERVIEW INITIATED-

* * *

LEE, XANDER J. (MAJOR): Okay then, let's begin... Begin IDA Case Interview 001. Major Xander James Lee -access code Alpha, Foxtrot, 7-8-9-0- overseeing this interview, on the date of July third, 2018.

BARNES, REBECCA "BECKY" L. (MEDICAL DEPARTMENT): Agent Rebecca ‘Becky’ Lorraine Barnes as a witness...access code Victor, Romeo, 5-6-2-1.

LEE, X. (Maj.): State your full given name for the record, please.

[Subject sighs]

PERKINS, EMMA J. (SUBJECT): Emma Juliet Perkins…

LEE, X. (Maj.): And your birthdate?” 

PERKINS, E: February 17th, 1988.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Hmm...an Aquarius… Your place of birth?

PERKINS, E: Hatchetfield, Michigan. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Any recent travel outside of the country in the past three years?

PERKINS, E: I backpacked around Guatemala for the past ten years. I came back in late December of 2017 

LEE, X (Maj.): Thank you, Miss Perkins. The time is currently…7:05 AM central time zone… Colonel June Patricia Schaeffer -access code Tango, Whiskey, 4-3-2-9 - remains a secondary witness via security footage.

PERKINS, E.: I’m still a little confused, what exactly does this secret agency do?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Our department handles crises of a certain nature. We specialize in cleaning up and understanding incidents of a paranormal, extraterrestrial, and interdimensional origin. Because of this, we here at PEIP do our best to keep the prospects of the world safe. 

PERKINS, E.: *with much sarcasm* Oh, of course. Now, I’m convinced. 

LEE, X (Maj.): Miss Perkins, I would like to begin by asking you where your current place of employment is?

[Perkins, E. sighs] 

PERKINS, E.: I work two jobs. One is as a cashier at Barnes and Noble at Lakeside Mall, where I work mostly on Saturdays and Wednesday nights. The second is a Barista at Beanies, a coffee shop on Squirrel Street. I work morning shifts there on all five weekdays, and occasionally on a Sunday or Saturday.

LEE, X (Maj.): This past weekend, were you working at the coffee shop? If so, when?

PERKINS, E.: Yeah…both Saturday and Sunday. Morning shift both times...which usually lasts from five forty-five to one forty-five.

LEE, X.(Maj.): On Saturday, June 31st, 2018, did you notice anything abnormal happen around noon?

PERKINS, E.: Jesus... *inaudible muttering*... As I already told you when you came in on Sunday...no. I didn’t notice anything other than the fact that I accidentally misheard an order, and we got a party of four.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Let the records show that at approximately 12:34 PM, on Saturday, June 31st, 2018, the PEIP Anomaly Sensors, stationed outside of the Beanies establishment picked up an anomaly within the parameters of an interdimensional episode

[Perkins, E. Laughs]

PERKINS, E.: Are you serious? Interdimensional episode?

[Skip 00:01:23 of silence]

PERKINS, E.: Is this some kind of sick joke? You expect me to take this seriously?

[Perkins, E. Stands]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Miss Perkins, please sit down…

[Perkins, E. does so with much reluctance] 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Following the reception of this anomaly, I visited the establishment of Beanies at approximately 1:31 PM, on July 1st, 2018, and was serviced by Miss Perkins. My intentions behind visiting the establishment were to scout out the sites of the sensors, searching for either A) the signs of a malfunction in the sensors, or B) physical signs of an interdimensional anomaly. Upon my arrival, I briefly questioned her if she’d seen anything odd and got a negated answer. Now, Miss Perkins, are you currently on any medications?

PERKINS, E.: I don’t think that’s any of your-

BARNES, R.(Med.): It’s to test the viability of your story, Emma.

PERKINS, E.: So...you want to see if I’m on anything...to make sure I’m not lying about...not seeing anything? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): That is correct.

PERKINS, E.: What the ~~fuck~~?

LEE, X. (Maj.): I’ll restate the question. Miss Perkins, are you on any medications?

PERKINS, E.: ~~Shit~~ … I’ve got some anxiety meds… Propranolol… It’s to control shaking and tremors, as well as fight or flight responses. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): What’s the dosage?

PERKINS, E.: Two tablets of 20 micrograms twice daily. But if I’m being honest, I haven’t gotten them refilled in months. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Why is that?

PERKINS, E.: Our country’s ~~fucked~~ up. I barely make enough to pay rent every month and keep up with personal expenses. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Moving on...Miss Perkins, you said your morning shifts end at thirteen forty-five military time, is that correct?

PERKINS, E.: Yep. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Could you please repeat for the record what happened upon your leaving Beanies after your shift?

PERKINS, E.: Why? What could be relevant to that? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): All in good time, Ma’am. 

[Perkins, E. lets out a long exaggerated sigh] 

BARNES, R. (Med.): Emma, if you need a moment-

PERKINS, E.: No...I’m fine.

[Skip 00:02:01 of silence]

PERKINS, E.: I clocked out of my shift a few minutes late. That was when the glasses guy- why are you even wearing them inside, man? Are you like the party animal of this...PEIP, was it called... or something? Right...what was your name?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Xander Lee. But you can call me Xander or just Lee if you want, Miss Perkins. 

PERKINS, E.: Please just call me Emma. Miss Perkins sounds too...official. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Alright that’s fine with me...and in regards to the glasses thing...I just thought they looked cool.

SCHAEFFER, JUNE P. (COLONEL): *via speakers* Please remain on topic, Dr. Lee. 

PERKINS, E.: Is that the military ~~bitch~~? Y’know...the one who picked me up with Becky?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Yes...that’s our very own Colonel June Schaeffer, but that was probably the most accurate description of her I think anyone has given of her. 

SCHAEFFER, J. (Col.): *via speakers* Xander…

LEE, X. (Maj.): All in good faith, June, all in good faith. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): Continuing on...Emma you were saying...Xander visited you at Beanies?

PERKINS, E.: Yeah… He came and asked if I’d seen anything weird. I told him no, and made his chai iced tea. Then I clocked out and was prepared to go home and shower before my classes. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Can you tell us what happened?

PERKINS, E.: You were there, man, you should know.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Please just repeat it for the record. 

PERKINS, E.: Well, record, a drunken, perverted, ~~asshole~~ nearly ran me over...he hit a telephone pole instead and the pole nearly crushed me. I managed to stumble away before it did though. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): There is evidence to suggest you had a major panic attack afterward, Agent Barnes can confirm that. 

PERKINS, E.: Is that your way of telling me I look like ~~shit ?~~

LEE, X. (Maj.): Have you ever seen a psychiatrist? 

PERKINS, E.: ~~Fuck~~ you, Xander...I saw a doctor a few times when I was thirteen...she put me on the propranolol. I didn’t trust her and my parents didn’t want to waste money on therapy so I stopped going. 

LEE, X.(Maj.): Emma...following the event, you asked me who had pushed you out of the way of the telephone pole...but the closest person to you was Sherman Young, who was still unconscious inside his wrecked vehicle when the pole collapsed. Also, the video footage of the scene captures no one within three yards of you other than yourself.

BARNES, R. (Med.): Let the records show that Sherman Young was arrested for the damage done and drunk driving yesterday by Officer Samuel Jeffries. 

PERKINS, E.: I don’t know why I said that...I probably just trippe-

LEE, X. (Maj.): You didn’t… and you know it. 

PERKINS, E.: Damn, why do you have to be so cryptic? Was there like a contract for cryptic nature when you signed on to be a part of...whatever this is?

LEE, X. (Maj.): That’s actually a good idea...Schaeffer! Write that down somewhere! Now, what actually happened?

[Incoherent Mumbling]

SCHAEFFER, J. (Col.):*Via speakers* Can she repeat that Lee, the recording didn’t pick that up. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, can you repeat that? 

PERKINS, E.: I thought...I thought I’d been pushed. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): What did it feel like?

PERKINS, E.: What do you mean, what did it feel like? It felt like I’d been pushed...tackled really. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Did it feel like a physical person?

PERKINS, E.: Well...I mean I’d been tackled...so yeah...you could say that. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Warmth and everything? 

PERKINS, E.: The ~~fuck~~ is that supposed to mean? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): I’m sorry, let me rephrase...did you feel body heat...like from a normal person. 

PERKINS, E.: Uhhh...yeah...I think so. The person had their arms wrapped around my arms so...yeah.

[sound of shuffling papers]

LEE, X.(Maj.): Miss Perkins…

PERKINS, E.: Emma.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma… yesterday, three different traffic cams on squirrel street were recording the incident. As I mentioned before, Saturday presented some energy levels indicative of an interdimensional episode...remember?

PERKINS, E.: Uh...yeah. 

LEE, X, (Maj.): After the incident with Sherman Young and his car, every sensor on Squirre- the street was set off...with readings into the far reaches of interdimensional phenomena.

[shuffling of papers as Major Lee shows the subject readings]

[very long pause]

PERKINS, E.: How do I know these readings aren’t ~~bullshit~~?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Ma’am, I have had a doctorate in theoretical physics since I was 23, I’ve worked with this organization for twelve years, I’m gay, and I’ve not seen a proper payday since 2010 because we’re severely underfunded. These readings are the only thing that’s validating my stay here. 

PERKINS, E.: Sheesh, I didn’t ask for your whole life story. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): In addition to the vast magnitude of the anomaly, the three traffic cameras recording the conduct on the street managed to capture footage of the whole ordeal. 

PERKINS, E.: And?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Yesterday, I managed to run the footage through a software that can slow down any footage to at the very least five hundred frames per second. We ran it to one thousand images per frame per second for each camera. 

PERKINS, E.: ~~Shit~~. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Indeed...following this, we ran a total of two hundred and twenty-eight thousand frames through a coloration software, which was designed to pick up on any physical indicators of an interdimensional anomaly.

PERKINS, E.: And you knew to do this...how?

LEE, X. (Maj.): As I’ve said, long before my tenure with this organization began, we’ve specialized in crises of a certain nature. 

PERKINS, E.: So stuff like this has happened before?

LEE, X. (Maj.): I never said that... that sort of information is classified. 

PERKINS, E.: Okay... so...if it's an interdimensional anomaly, did the software work?

LEE, X. (Maj.): See for yourself. 

[rustling of more papers as Major Lee shows the subject three scans from the footage of the scene]

LEE, X.: There were three images out of a total two-hundred twenty-eight thousand that showed up...from a minute and sixteen seconds worth of footage. 

PERKINS, E.: Man, I know you’re a physicist, but I failed math in high school for a reason...how long were these things visible? 

LEE, X.: A collective three milliseconds. 

PERKINS, E.: Collective…? 

LEE, X.: Three of the anomalies were visible for two milliseconds. A fourth appeared shortly after and was visible for a millisecond. 

PERKINS, E.: Oh. What do the colors mean?  
  


LEE, X. (Maj.): The darker the color on the RGBV spectrum, the more powerful the anomaly. Purple being the strongest and pink-ish being the weakest. 

PERKINS, E.: Who’s the green kid?

LEE, X. (Maj.): The image was too blurred for us to run any facial recognition, and upping any resolution wouldn’t do much good. But the presence of dark splotches on the shirt could be…

PERKINS, E.: Blood? Would that make him a ghost?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Negative. The parameters were strictly within the range for Interdimensional.

PERKINS, E.: And how big was the sample size when those parameters were established?

[Awkward silence]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Moving on...what do you notice about the dark purple splotch and the girl? Unlike the boy, I remember seeing her on-site so she should have been visible for the entire footage span...not just two milliseconds. 

PERKINS, E.: I-uhh...what do you mean she isn’t visible for the whole footage?

LEE, X. (Maj.): In our analysis of the footage, this girl, whom we’ve identified as eleven-year-old Hannah Foster, does not appear anywhere else. 

PERKINS, E.: Hey...you’re gonna leave her alone, right?

[silence]

PERKINS, E.: Right? Lee, she’s eleven, she’s not a threat. Even if the anomaly looked like her, that doesn’t mean it is her, right? She might have had an alibi!

LEE, X. (Maj.): Nevertheless, questioning Hannah Foster and her older sister, Alexandra, is on our list of things to do.

[inaudible muttering from Perkins, E.]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Did you see her on-site?

PERKINS, E.:...I’m not gonna answer that. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, we can’t get the answers we need without questioning them properly. We aren’t going to hurt them, we just need to know why she’s there. 

PERKINS, E.: But what if they don’t want to, Lee? What if they get overwhelmed and want nothing to do with this? What if your software is ~~bullshit~~ and she’s just a normal kid? ~~Fuck~~ , what if... 

LEE, X. (Maj.): If so desired, we have already made plans to get them away from their mother- Pamela Foster- and put them in a proper housing unit for their own protection. If they agree to the procedure-

BARNES, R. (Med.): Xander...you should stop...

PERKINS, E.: Procedure?! ~~Fuck~~ , Lee, they’re just kids!

LEE, X.(Maj.): We won’t do anything without their consent. But Emma, I need to know, did you see her?

BARNES, R. (Med.): Xander...

[long silence]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma?

PERKINS, E.: ~~Fuck~~ you.

LEE, X. (Maj.): I’ll take that as a yes. 

[skip 00:15:42 of silence]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, are you going to look at the third highlighted segment? 

PERKINS, E.: Why should I?!

LEE, X. (Maj.): Because it answers your main question. 

[more rustling of papers as Perkins, E. Looks at the image]

PERKINS, E.: What the hell?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Do you recognize him?

PERKINS, E.: What’s with the gender assumption? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): I’m sorry, let me rephrase. Do you recognize the anomaly?

[skip 00:01:27 of silence]  
  


BARNES, R. (Med.): Emma?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma...Miss Perkins? Miss Perkins! 

[Crashing sound]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Oh ~~fuck.~~ June, we need medical assistance!

BARNES, R. (Med.): Oh ~~shit~~. JUNE GET A MED TEAM IN HERE NOW. Emma, can you hear me? Emma, come on!

* * *

-INTERVIEW TERMINATED-

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I should add a tag where I say "We love Emma, and therefore she must suffer"  
> Yes, Emma's middle name is Juliet...and she hates it. 
> 
> PEIP may or may not be trustworthy in this reset...hhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
> 
> This chapter probably has the fewest words (with the exception of the prologue) because I formatted it differently. Sorry if the formatting got weird.
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos and tell me what you think!!  
> Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	10. Your Face Haunts My Once Pleasant Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is not exactly sharing everything.  
> Ethan is pissed. Paul is scared and confused.  
> Lex and Hannah find an escape.  
> Emma is deep down in drowsy town (and it's not the B&W)
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Mentions of alcohol abuse, Child abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of this chapter comes from the same song as the last one ("My Immortal" by Evanescence).
> 
> Okay, since the B&W is outside of time and space, the events that take place in the last two chapters happened, but the first section takes place right as Ethan and John's conversation in Chapter seven (I've Been Less Than Half Myself for More Than Half My Life)

“I think it’s because of Paul.” John was saying to Ethan when another being stumbled into the Black and White. 

John looked up, his eyes widening slightly, “Paul...you’re back.” John whispered hoarsely, his voice lacking any general emotion. 

Ethan whirled around, ready to demand an explanation from him “What the fu-” 

He stopped when he saw Paul's face.

Because time was not a factor in the workings of the Black and White, he couldn’t necessarily tell how long Paul had remained in Hatchetfield’s present, but something told him that it had been a while. After seeing how adamant he was that he had to remain with Emma, he figured he could have been in Hatchetfield’s present for as long as a week if it had been that bad. Ethan couldn’t blame him. After all, he’d once stayed with Hannah and Lex for a week when their mom had gotten really bad. 

But this...something told Ethan that something really had gone wrong.

For a man who was usually nervous, Paul’s face had gone a shade of white that was corpse-like. While they technically weren’t ghosts, he could have easily fooled Ethan. His hands were balled into fists that were tapping together ceaselessly as if he was trying to process something. His blue eyes were wide and seemingly bulging out of his head as he stared desperately into nothingness. His breathing was rapid, and Ethan could easily tell that he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Man, are…” Ethan said, unsure of how to proceed, “Are you okay?”

Paul’s eyes snapped up to meet his, almost not completely processing the question. 

John stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, “You don’t have to talk, Son...Ethan, let's just give him a moment-”

“N-No.” Paul stammered, “I need to get back…”

Ethan and John looked at one another, slightly taken aback. 

“I-um...I just wanted...to um...t-to let you guys know...um-” He stammered, running a hand through his hair furiously.

John’s face fell slightly, “Son...breathe with me.”

Mercifully, Paul complied, breathing in for four seconds, holding it for eight and exhaling for seven. They did this for a few moments until Paul finally calmed a little bit. Although, the anxiety was still very clear in his eyes. 

“Um- so...I’m assuming that the man you were following around on Sunday…” Paul said, clearly trying to find his footing in phrasing, “I’m assuming that was your husband…” 

John nodded, not saying anything. 

“He said his name was Xander...and um...how do I put this...” Paul said, stammering over his words again, “He uh- he, uh…”

“Did something happen to him?” John said, keeping his voice even and trying to keep a hold on his emotions. 

Paul's gaze softened slightly, “Um...no..” John seemed to relax slightly at that, “...but he brought in Emma for questioning...and uh…”

“Dude, breathe,” Ethan instructed calmly. 

With a sharp inhale and exhale Paul spat out the next few words, “He knows we exist…”

Ethan didn’t need a mirror to know that several different facial expressions crossed his face as he took in the words. 

_The whole point of being trapped in the Black and White, only viewing events from a fuckin’ distance, was that they_ didn’t _exist. It was supposed to be impossible that anyone could know of their existence._

_But then, of course, it was supposed to be impossible that contact could be a thing...so Paul had already decided to break that rule._

_Kudos to the Black and White for stickin’ to their guns._

John looked shocked slightly, before simply asking, “How?” 

Paul ran a hand through his hair again, “Um...well, your husband from a previous l-life…”

“Just call him Xander, man,” John said with a small shake of his head. 

“Y-yeah, so Xander apparently… ran the traffic cam footage through some software and was able to capture images of us...blurred images...and they were supposedly only visible for a few milliseconds...he color-coded them and...you could just tell it was us.”

John let out a humorless laugh, “So...in this reset PEIP is underfunded, yet Rodney’s software works?!”

Ethan raised an eyebrow at John before turning back to Paul, who was tapping his fists together again, “I wasn’t even there!” 

“Yes,” John said, “...but you went back and witnessed it when I told you about it.” 

Paul nodded, his breathing picking up in speed, “That little girl you were with...the other Day at Beanies...on Saturday...she was an anomaly too…”

_What the hell?_

Ethan whirled back around to face him, “Hannah?” 

Paul nodded, “Yeah, unlike the two of us, they could identify her...and like us, she was only visible for two milliseconds...but she’s not stuck here like we are …and I don’t even remember seeing her there.”

John shook his head, “Me neither...but she was there when I sent Ethan back.”

“I think your husband saw her,” Ethan chirped, “Emma too.” 

At the men’s confused gaze, Ethan went on, “She said she was watchin’ like I was.”

John sighed heavily, “Webby.” 

Paul looked confused, “We can’t even see you when you go back and view moments we were present for- even as Black and White ghost-things…how come she could see you?”

“That's the question of the day, buddy.”

Paul looked nervous, “There’s more, Ethan.”

“What d’ya mean?” 

“Xander’s gonna bring her and her sister in for questioning soon.”

Ethan was furious, “They can’t do that! Hannah’s _just a kid_...their mom will-” He trailed off, not wanting to continue that thought. He sighed, “They’re doing this because they saw her for less than a second on traffic camera footage?”

Paul nodded, his eyes guilty, “Yeah...Em tried to argue against it but Xander was dead-set on it.”

John grimaced as he looked up at Ethan with some semblance of comfort “He’d not do it without the knowledge that they could get Lex and Hannah out of that situation with their mother, though.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Ethan shouted, making Paul flinch, “Lex and Banana are special, and God only knows what your sciency ex-husband is gonna do when he figures that out! I don’t care how ‘good’ your organization is...the fact that they’re different makes them perfect lab-rats, doesn’t it?!?!” 

“Ethan…” John sighed, extending a hand to place on his shoulder.

“No, fuck you...just…” Ethan turned away for a second, running a hand through his hair.

He began to draw up a doorway with shaky hands, vaguely listening to Paul and John continuing the conversation.

Paul turned away and murmured, “I’m gonna go back...I need to be with Emma…”

“We still need to talk about this, son,” John said evenly. 

“Well, we can do it later!” Paul snapped, seemingly wavering at his raised voice, “I’m sorry, I just really need to be with her in the present.”

“Why?” Ethan heard John say.

Paul sighed, his exhaling heavy and almost filled with emotion, “Um- she just...uh...she collapsed when Xander was finishing up showing her the scans...and I uh…”

“How bad?” John murmured.

Ethan knew John’s underlying meaning. If Emma’s death really was what would finish a reset cycle, then Emma dying would make everything go back to before and all these strange occurrences would be forgotten. 

Paul sighed again, his voice filled with some slight emotion, “It-It wasn’t that bad...she just had a nosebleed and extreme exhaustion...but I can’t-”

Ethan heard John sigh- in relief or annoyance, he didn’t know- before cutting him off, “It’s okay, son...you can go...but we all need to talk about this...and why it’s happening later...for a dimension outside of time, we all know Hatchetfield is running out of it again.”

Ethan didn’t stay a moment longer as he stepped through the doorway and into Hatchetfield’s present. 

\---

_The sound of rain pattering on the windshield was both comforting and alarming to Emma. She gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, her eyes sorely fixed on the road._

_She’d been dreading this day since Tom called two weeks before._

_After nearly a two years of beating-around-the-bush with her brother-in-law, complete with sporadic visits, awkward small talk, and just her trying to prove to him that she wanted to be a part of their lives and was trying to be a better person, Tom had finally decided that it was time to talk about Jane as a family._

_The drive to Tom's house was supposed to last about twenty minutes, but the rain had made traffic killer. She knew that snow was imminent with the consistently decreasing Michigan winter temperatures, and knew that it would probably make trips like this even more brutal._

_Music played from the radio softly, she couldn’t recognize it, but it was calming in a sense._

_A hand was placed on her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into her shoulder blade without throwing her driving off._

_“It’ll be okay, Emma.” The voice belonging to that same guy said._

_“I know…but what if it isn’t?” She sighed, “What if, after tonight, Tom decides he doesn’t want me in his and Tim’s lives and they don’t ever call or invite us over again?”_

_“You can’t believe that’ll happen?” He said calmly and gently. Man, she loved his voice._

_“Why not?” She whispered, fear creeping into her voice, “When I spent my first two years back here, he wanted nothing to do with me...what if we just go back to that?”_

_“It won’t.” He said calmly, continuing to rub her shoulder gently._

_“We’re gonna be talking about_ Jane. _” she said with a shudder, “What if they realize how awful of a person I am and shove me out of their lives?”_

_“Emma…” the voice said calmly, she didn’t let him finish as she went on._

_“I mean, I wasn’t there for their wedding, I didn’t call her when she announced that she was pregnant, I wasn’t there for Tim’s baby shower- I didn’t even show up for our parent’s funerals!”_

_“Your parents were awful to you, Emma, no one can fault you for that!”_

_“I still could have been there for Jane!” she said, “And Tim...God, Tim...I had so many chances to come back and meet him when he was a toddler...I could have been so much more to him than a deadbeat aunt, but what if I missed that chance? Besides, I think Tim actually likes you more than he likes me.”_

_“Tim adores you, you know he does.” The voice said gently, “You left because you felt trapped here, Jane understood that.”_

_“That doesn’t excuse the fact that I was never a part of her life!” She sighed at the outburst, “I mean...to them, my absence must’ve looked like I didn’t care...and for a time it was like that...but now suddenly I’m back and demanding a place in their lives?”_

_“Hey, you aren’t demanding anything.” He said firmly, his hand squeezing gently on her shoulder for emphasis, “What's done is done, nothing can change that. You’ve worked hard since coming back to gain stability and to prove to Tom that you want to be a part of their lives. Sure, it’s awkward and messy...but it always is.”_

_She said nothing as Tom’s house came into view. The hand fell from her shoulder_

_“Emma…” the voice said, soothing and thoughtful, “Maybe this visit will help you and Tom both move on...maybe let Jane rest...instead of being a source of guilt. Maybe Tom wants you in his life now, because...well, Tim needs an aunt...and Jane meant a lot to all three of you. Maybe this visit will help you realize that you’re not alone in this grief, and you don’t have to be alone moving forward.”_

_As she pulled in, she thought about his words. How did this guy somehow know exactly what to say? And what the fuck was he doing, giving her butterflies in her stomach? That had certainly never happened before._

_When she put the car into park the hand was back on her shoulder._

_“Hey…”_

_She turned to face the hand’s owner._

_It was the same guy from before, with brown hair neatly pushed to the side, a beautiful, soft smile, and the most gorgeous blue eyes that seemed to bug out of his face. He wore a navy blue sweater, which made his eyes look startling in the growing darkness from outside, and a dark red scarf. His eyes seemed to bore into her soul as he smiled gently and comfortingly at her._

_Why was it all so familiar?_

_“Everything’s going to be okay….okay?”_

_She smiled slightly, feeling warmth grow in her chest._

_“Okay.”_

_“Okay.”_

\---

Reset No. 6

Date: July 5th, 2018

Being Unknown 

Lex groaned as she curled into a tighter ball on her bed. Between the loud annoyingness of the fourth of July celebrations from yesterday, and their mother coming home drunk...again, she’d been up all night trying to make sure that Hannah would stay asleep. Her cheek still stung from where her mother had slapped her upon her arrival back at home, and the door to her and Hannah’s room was still locked, to keep their inebriated mother at bay. Thankfully, she didn’t have a shift until 1:00 that afternoon and would probably get a good nap in before she had to leave. 

A nap that would have been nice, had it not been for the extremely loud knocking on their shitty trailer door. 

Hannah was already up and was playing with a stuffed mouse Lex had snagged for her a few months back. Surprisingly, she didn’t whimper at the loud noise and instead was smiling down at the stuffed animal with content. 

Lex knew their mother wasn’t awake, not with the Ambien she’d taken when she’d gotten home, in addition to all the booze she’d already consumed. She knew this was a good thing, as she and Hannah would inevitably get the brunt of whatever drunken rage she would have had at the person at the door. 

With a groan, Lex hauled herself off of her tiny mattress and smiled at Hannah, who was humming in contentment as she played with the mouse’s ear. 

“What’re you thinking?” She asked her sister, in reference to the mouse, “Are they Mark, Marley, or just Mo today?” 

Hannah hummed with a smile, her dark eyes twinkling, “She’s Marley today.”

When she’d given Hannah the stuffed mouse, Lex had initially referred to the toy as a ‘her’, to which she’d received a curt “He is a he today, and his name is Mark.” in response.

She encouraged this with her sister, seeing as how Hannah, who had been nine at the time she’d received the mouse was already better with pronoun awareness than most kids Lex’ age were. Hannah had become attached to the small stuffed mouse and had been careful to keep her with her at all times, and away from other people. 

A loud knock came from the door again. 

“Maybe they’ll just go away?” She said to Hannah, who shook her head. 

“Not going away. Stubborn.” She said sagely, stroking the mouse gently again.

“What does Webby say?” She asked her sister as the pounding of the door grew more insistent, trying to keep Hannah in a good mood. 

Hannah thought for a moment, her eyes closing as she set Marley down, “Ethan’s here.” she whispered, “Broken souls. Need glue. Questions.” 

Since Hannah had been able to speak, Lex had heard an earful about Webby- the spider from “the dark void”.

She’d figured that Webby was an imaginary friend- that took the form of a magical space spider- who helped Hannah cope with everything their mother would throw at them (both literally and figuratively). Honestly, Lex was grateful that Hannah had found a way to keep herself relatively happy when things got rough...although, sometimes Hannah would say things that would leave Lex wondering if Webby knew things about their personal lives before it happened. 

That was ridiculous though. Hannah was probably just extremely perceptive and had good intuition. That wouldn’t have surprised Lex at all...seeing as how the girl was a lot smarter than anyone had given her credit for. 

“Is Ethan friends with Webby?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Hannah giggled at this and shook her head, “No...Webby says he’s good. Knew us.” 

She didn’t want to think about this implication as the door knocking grew all the louder. Hannah looked up at her. 

“Webby says you should answer it.”

Lex stood up from the bed, pulling a sweatshirt over her pajamas to conceal the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She personally didn’t like taking orders from an imaginary friend...but she also didn’t like waiting for the obnoxious knocking to end. 

As she carefully stumbled through the trailer, she found that their mother was still asleep in her small room, a mostly-empty bottle of booze in one hand. She could tell from the woman’s snoring, that she wouldn’t be up for another few hours...and most definitely wouldn’t wake up to the sound of the knocking. 

She peered out the frosted window on the door to see two figures standing. Both were blurred, but she could make out the fact that one was wearing dark clothing that couldn’t have been sensible for the heat, while the other was in a bright shade of turquoise. 

She pulled open the door quietly to see two women. One was a stern-looking woman with steely eyes while the other was…

“Becky?” She asked, recognizing the woman who’d come to Toy Zone every so often to pick up a stuffed animal for kids at the hospital. She and the nurse had become acquainted until Becky stopped showing up around last Christmas. 

Becky smiled, “Hi, Lex, how are you?” 

“Alexandra Foster?” the second woman questioned strictly, cutting off any response Lex might’ve had to Becky’s question. 

“Um...yeah?” Lex said, “I prefer Lex, though.”

“Miss Foster is your sister at home?” The woman said, not caring about the remark. 

“Uh…” Lex didn’t know what to make of this question. 

Becky’s eyes grew wide, “Schaeffer,” She hissed, “We need to ask nicely, they’re kids.” 

“What the hell is going on?” Lex asked, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“Miss Foster, my name is Colonel June Schaeffer, I am with the United States Military. My department has some questions for yourself and for your younger sister, Miss Hannah Foster.”

“Lexi?” A small voice came from behind her. 

Lex whirled around to see Hannah, still clutching Marley in her hands. Her eyes were tired, but she didn’t appear alarmed. 

“Oh, Banana, they were just…”

“It’s okay, Lexi…Webby says we need to go with them.” Hannah said sagely, “Can help us. California.”

_California._

That was a dream Lex had since she was thirteen. Being on the opposite side of America, far away from their mother, with a future as an actress...it was something she’d wanted for so long. Even with her eighteenth birthday quickly approaching, and the two jobs she was working, she knew she’d have to wait at least another year or two to have enough for the two of them to get to California. But still...California was the dream. Maybe an impractical one, but still a dream. Hannah was the only one who knew about it. 

“Miss Foster,” The Colonel said, “I would like to ask that you and your sister spend the next half hour preparing as needed to leave this establishment.”

“P-Prepare to...what the fuck are you talking about!?” Lex exclaimed. 

“We’re getting you away from your mother, Lex,” Becky said calmly, her eyes pleading. Lex suddenly became self-conscious of the hand-print that had formed a welt over the course of the night. Becky didn’t _seem_ untrustworthy...in fact, she seemed _genuinely sympathetic_ , “These people can help you and Hannah.”

Lex still wasn’t sure, “How do I know that you’re not members of some cult? How do I know you’re not...human traffickers or something?!?” She moved herself to somewhat conceal her sister from the view of the two women, putting a hand behind her to gently usher Hannah back. As always, serving as Hannah’s resolute protector.

“Webby says Becky’s good.” Hannah said, “Can help us. Can help Ethan.”

_Who the fuck was Ethan?_

“Miss Foster, we have a housing unit on our base reserved for you and your sister. We can help you acquire the necessary schooling and provide you with enough funds to get away from Hatchetfield,” The woman said, her gaze unyielding under Lex’s own, “All we require is that yourself and your sister aid and assist us in our investigation.” 

Becky smiled, “I know this isn’t worth much, Lex,” she said with a calm voice, “But I promise... you can trust these people…and I live on base too, so we can be neighbors!”

Lex looked back at Hannah, who had a small smile on her face. She turned towards their sleeping mother’s room, the stench of booze, and one-night-stands remaining a permanent feature. 

Anywhere, she figured, was better than here. 

She glared at the military woman, who didn’t shift her gaze, and then back at Hannah, who took her hand encouragingly. She’d not been expecting to make such a decision _today_ , but the sooner they were away from their mother, the better. 

“Okay. ”

\---

_Everything was warm and welcoming as she woke up._

_The softness of the sheets in a comfortable combination with her pajamas enveloped her in warmth she couldn’t imagine herself without. She couldn’t remember a time- if such a time existed- when she’d woken up feeling so_ content _._

_She didn’t open her eyes as she registered a pair of strong but gentle arms were wrapped around her, another body enveloping hers. They were soft and comforting in nature and made her feel safe in a sense. She tried not to shift too much, as not to wake him up, and a soft smile found its way to her face._

_A pair of lips pressed a gentle kiss to her head and her smile grew._

_“Morning.” The guy whispered._

_She hummed contently in response, turning over on her side to face him, and nestle closer._

_Her head fit perfectly under his chin and he tightened his hold on her gently. He kissed her head again and relaxed with a sigh._

_“What time is it?” She whispered._

_There was a pause as he checked the clock on her bedside table, craning his neck over her head to see._

_“Seven forty-two.” He said, “But it's Saturday and you took today off.”_

_“Mhm.” She hummed, “Can we just stay here for the next year...or the next seven hours at least?”_

_“I think we’ve got stuff to do today, Em.” He said with a small chuckle._

_She sighed for a moment, “No we don’t.”_

_He laughed again, “Yeah we do…”_

_“Like what?” she said with a snort._

_“Oh, I don’t know,” He said with a teasing tone, “Get a cat…maybe?”_

_Her eyes snapped open and she looked at him with wide eyes, “Oh shit!”_

_He smiled in response. A gesture that only made her feel giddier and giddier._

_“It’s today?”_

_He nodded, “Yep.”_

_She sat up, rolled on top of him, grabbed his face in her hands, and kissed him happily. He chuckled against her lips as she knit her hands into his soft hair._

_“Happy two years.” She murmured to him in between kisses._

_He sighed happily and cupped her jaw, “Happy two years, Em.”_

_She cuddled up next to him trying to be as close as possible and pressed a kiss to his shoulder and then his collarbone as he hugged her closer, one of his hands stroking her hair down its length._

_“Can we go now?” She said with excitement._

_He laughed, “The adoption event doesn’t start until eleven, Em.”_

_“Yeah...but it's a cat…”_

_“I know, Em.” he whispered, “What happened to wanting to stay here for the next year?”_

_“Yeah, but that was before I realized what day it was!!”_

_“I know…” He said with a small chuckle, “You want to think about names?”_

_She nodded slightly, laughing when she bonked her head on his chin, “What’re you thinking?”_

_“I don’t know…what about...Paul Jr.?”_

_“You are such a dork.”_

_“Paul’s a good name!”_

_“Paul is the most boring name ever, and you want to name our cat that?” She said, with a laugh._

_He snorted, “Gee, thanks.”_

_“Hey, I didn’t go around suggesting Emma Jr. arrogantly, sir!”_

_“I thought you liked my name!” He said in mock indignance._

_“I do, but that's only because you’re the most boring person alive and it suits you.”_

_“Again, gee, thanks.”_

_“You’re welcome, nerd.”_

_He sighed again, “I can’t believe it’s already been two years.”_

_She smiled, “Yeah...it seems like only yesterday you could barely talk to me.”_

_He groaned, “Don’t remind me.”_

_“All you could do was stammer over ordering a simple black coffee,” she went on with a teasing smile, “It’s a surprise that you had that first date offer hidden in there somewhere.”_

_“I’m still pretty sure I botched it.”_

_“Oh yeah, you did.” She leaned up and kissed his forehead, “I loved it...but don’t tell anyone.”_

_“Oh, of course not.” He laughed, kissing her nose, “I wouldn’t want to compromise your cold bitch reputation.”_

_“See? I knew there was a reason for me sticking with you for two years.”_

_He smiled and kissed her again. She opened her eyes so she could stare into his beautiful blue eyes._

_“I do love you, nerd.” She said with a smile._

_His face flushed as a dorky grin, “I love you too, Emma.”_

_They sat there for a few more moments, looking at one another as he pulled her closer, just breathing in one another’s presence when he spoke again._

_“You gotta wake up, Em.”_

_She looked at him with a funny expression, “Umm...I am.”_

_His face went blank as he stared at her._

“Wake up, Emma. “

_The world around them crumbled until all that was left was the two of them staring at one another._

_“What’s happening!?” She shouted, fear creeping into her heart._

_“_ You need to wake up, Emma.” 

_She screamed as the darkness consumed him._

_Wake up._

_Wake up._

_Wake up._

_Wake up._

WAKE UP. 

Her eyes shot open, and she gasped as she tried to sit up. The stiffness in her chest protested as she did, so she settled for laying against the pillows. 

Her heart was beating painfully inside her chest, and her head hurt as her eyes adjusted to the light in the room. 

With a start, she realized this was not her apartment. 

She was in a hospital.

She fucking hated hospitals.

She groaned and tried to bring a hand to her head to block out the fluorescent light...when she realized there was an IV in it. She cringed at the realization and searched the room for any indication of where she might be. 

The last thing she remembered was...an interview...pictures of the wreck...Xander...Xander Lee. 

A new figure scrambled into the room and she recognized the bright red hair belonging to Becky Barnes. 

“Oh, Emma, you’re awake!” Becky said, when Emma let out another groan, “You really had us worried there.”

“Wha…” She groaned, cringing at how dry her throat was, “What happened?” 

Becky came closer, an understanding look in her gentle green gaze “You passed out during your interview with Xander. You had a nosebleed...so we may want you to undergo an MRI or CT scan, but other than that we think it was just exhaust-”

“ _Hannah, come back here!!”_ a raspy voice echoed down the hall. 

A new, small figure appeared in the room, and Emma quickly recognized the form of Hannah, her older sister close behind. 

“Hannah come on-” Lexi was saying, before recognizing Becky, “Oh...Becky, I’m sorry...we just got lost down the hallway…” she paused, looking down at the figure of Emma in the bed. 

Becky smiled in understanding, “ It’s okay Lex, just give me a second with this patient and I’ll help you get back.”

Hannah approached the bed, she smiled “Hi Emma.” 

Emma froze. _When did she learn her name?_

Lexi...or Lex looked confused, “Banana, let's let Miss Becky finish up with her patient so we can get back to our residential... thing.”

“Lexi…” Hannah tugged on her sister’s sleeve, “Webby says she’s important. Like you. Mosaic.” 

Lex sighed, “Hannah, _please._ ”

Hannah smiled at Emma, “Not alone,” she whispered, before stepping back by Lex “Webby knows.”

Emma merely smiled, in spite of her own tired confusion. Not wanting to upset the girl, she relaxed a little bit. Her head pounded and she winced. 

“Emma,” Becky began to say in spite of her own apparent confusion, “Is there anything I could get you to make you more comfortable? Once we get you an MRI or a CT scan you should be okay to get out of the sickbay.” 

“Uh...yeah,” Emma groaned, trying to sit up, hating the feeling of looking small and pitiful, “My head hurts, could I get some Tylenol or something?” 

Becky nodded and gestured for the two girls to follow her out of the room.

For a moment, Lex looked back at her, a confused and guilty expression on her face. All Emma could offer her in response was a haphazard shrug. 

All Emma could do was lay back and think about the dreams.

Regardless of where one thought started her thoughts kept going back to the guy with those beautiful blue eyes.

He'd said his name during the dream, hadn't he? However hard she tried, she couldn't remember it. 

Instead, she focused on his eyes. How safe and warm they made her feel.

In spite of her inability to recognize them, she had a sense of distant familiarity that she couldn't quite place. 

And somehow...in some way… she was calmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo...this ended up being another filler chapter, but we will really cut to the chase of what exactly John's been dealing with. Also, we will probably get to learn more about what all this information means... and may or may not feature the appearance of some Eldritch forces... (malicious author noises)
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos to let me know what you think!! I'd love to know what you're thinking!  
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	11. Everyone I Know Goes Away in the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has an encounter with the source of voices beyond his imagination.  
> Paul holds vigil and talks to Ethan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title for this song comes from the song "Hurt" by Johnny Cash
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Mentions of Alcohol abuse, drug abuse, child abuse, etc.

When Paul and Ethan both manifested themselves out of the Black and White, John found himself alone once again. 

He’d always been okay on his own. He’d never _needed_ the presence of another to feel like he was okay...but the Black and White was a completely different experience. 

He ran over what he knew of the situation in his mind like he would when he was a general...back when he had PEIP as a family and a husband he loved more than…

" _When you don't know what's happening, you need to go over the facts, John."_ Xander's voice echoed in his ears. 

He pushed the thoughts of Xander away as he ran over the facts. 

  1. _They were stuck in the Black and White_
  2. _Ethan had died and John’s soul merged with the Black and White when he went in to save the president from a deranged Wilbur Cross, during the same reset (Chaos)_
  3. _Paul had died in the most recent past reset (Oblivion) after being pulled into a portal to the Black and White (which had been in the possession of Professor Henry Hidgens)_
  4. _None of them existed in the present reset of Hatchetfield_
  5. _The resets always began with the death of Jane Perkins and seemingly ended with the death of Emma Perkins_
  6. _Paul and Emma had some sort of connection, similar to Ethan’s connection with the Foster sisters and his connection to Xander_
  7. _Hannah could see Paul's apparition in the present moments, but not Ethan or John_
  8. _Paul had seemingly broken the laws of the Black and White when he managed to save Emma from Sherman Young’s drunk driving_
  9. _Hannah had gone back and witnessed it (possibly able to do so due to her connection with Webby)_
  10. _Emma and Xander both saw Hannah at the event_
  11. _Paul and John had not seen Hannah at the event_
  12. _Ethan had been sent back to witness the event_
  13. _In witnessing the event, Hannah had also been able to see Ethan_
  14. _Xander’s sensors had picked up on the anomaly and he managed to use Rodney’s software (which surprisingly works)_
  15. _In every reset, Hannah Foster had some connection with Webby (The Being of Whispers)_
  16. _In every reset John and Ethan had witnessed so far, Paul and Emma managed to find one another (Conformal Order, Chaos, Tears, Silence, Oblivion)_
  17. _Somehow these new anomalies are connected to the inevitable coming apocalypse_



He racked his brain for anything else but came up short. In the three resets he’d witnessed so far with the Black and White, he’d never come across a presence in which they could interact with Hatchetfield.

He wished Xander were here, he would know what to do...but then again, he didn’t. He wouldn’t wish this fate on anyone, not Paul, and certainly not Ethan. He only hoped he was doing the right thing by trying to maintain stability from the Black and White. 

“ _You look tired, John_ ,” A small, hissing voice seemed to echo in his ears. 

He turned around, recognizing the echo of whispers in his ears, to see a woman. 

Her skin was an unearthly shade of bone-white, with black hair that fell in uniform curls around her shoulders. Her eyes were a bright red, with ruby-colored tattoos mimicking them above and below like crimson bloodstains. She wore a dress that seemed to be made out of spider webs, that billowed out in front of and behind her, and a matching veil, that seemed to give her the appearance of an apparition. 

With a sigh, he recognized the being of Whispers. 

“Webby.” 

She smiled, revealing a row of somewhat sharp teeth, “ _What? No joyful recognition?”_

“Isn’t recognition enough?” 

She shrugged and moved closer. Her movements were graceful, almost entrancing...dangerous.

“Why are you here, Webby?” He asked, trying to maintain a hold on his voice. He was rightfully scared of her...as anyone should be, but he wouldn’t break his strong composure. 

“ _Isn’t visiting the souls of the Black and White enough reason?”_

“It never is with you people.” 

“ _I am not a person, John.”_ She hissed. Her voice sounded like a million distant voices merged together, all irritatingly whispering in the back of his mind. Could he feel pain, he would almost certainly be getting a headache right about now. 

“Still,” He said, trying to regain his resolve, “Usually your kind sends emissaries, like Wilbur, to taunt us.” 

“ _I’m not here to taunt you, John.”_

“Then what exactly are you here for?” He said evenly, getting slightly annoyed, “To give me a reminder that the end is coming for Hatchetfield and there’s nothing I can do?” 

“ _I’ve come to warn you.”_ She said, her face unflinching. 

“Wilbur already did that,” he said, sighing at the all-too-recent memory of his deranged former mentor’s visit. 

“ _He didn’t say enough...didn’t give the right information.”_

“And you will?”

 _“You wouldn’t know.”_ She said, “ _Hatchetfield has been in the eyes of my kind for centuries, you know…”_

“So I’ve heard…” John whispered, trying to keep the growing bitterness out of his voice, “All you see in it is a game.”

“ _A game that any of us will be desperate to win.”_

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

She laughed, a horrible rasping sound, “ _Apatha, Wiggly, Drown, Hush, and Void have all had their turns...but what’s next is something Hatchetfield, even with their prophets, seers, and bonds could never be able to foresee.”_

“Could you spare me the cryptic sayings and just tell me what’s going to happen?” He said, starting to get irritated. 

“ _The game is one that has never been won,”_ She said, smiling at her slightly demented rhyme, “ _Broken souls need glue...and there are three now. Three is too many.”_

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

She sighed, “ _Souls are so easy to break...Hannah knows.”_

Rage flared in his veins as he desperately tried to keep his face stoic, “What do you want with the Foster girl, Webby?”

 _“Hannah sees what others cannot. Better vision, better hearing.”_ She said, “ _Worthy seer.”_

“What do you want with her?” 

Another horrible laugh sighed, “ _I don’t want to win the game, John, but I need my kind to lose. And that cannot happen while the souls are broken...incomplete.”_

At John’s expression, she went on, “ _Force of resistance is gone. Tether is gone. Bonds are unbroken...but stretched.”_

“What does that mean?” 

_“You know what I mean,”_ she said, a taunting glare in her blood-red eyes, “ _A bond is a very hard thing to break...even each reset of time cannot break it… a lack of existence can’t either. Some bonds are powerful...souls complete. Cracks filled.”_

“Look, Webby,” John said with a sigh, “Hannah may understand what you mean, but I don’t…”

 _“In your world, they’re called soulmates… specifically when romantic,”_ She said, her face blank, “ _Bonds not severed…only stretched. The fabric of their reality is weak…What’s past is seeping through.”_

“So we have to stop watching over them?” 

She glared at his interruption, _“You need to return, John. Without the return, the world is vulnerable and the game will be won.”_

“Our reality isn’t a game.” 

_“It is to my kind. And what’s coming will be able to permanently annihilate Hatchetfield if the bonds aren’t returned.”_

“What bonds?” He said, confusion seeping through his expression, “What are you talking about?”

She frowned and waved her hand through the air, a delicate but threatening motion, a web appeared before them, resembling an intricately woven tapestry. She pulled on a single string and a woven image appeared. 

It was a silhouette of two people...both men from the looks of it. As the image began to take shape, he recognized himself and Xander. 

“What is this?” 

_“Bonds are very rare…”_ She said sagely, _“Sometimes, a person’s soul is like a mosaic...broken….without the proper glue…”_

The image shifted to show the shape of a shattered orb at the centers of both men’s chests. Xander’s was a light orange, while John’s was glowing a pale blue. 

“ _But sometimes, the missing fragments of their soul finds a home in the soul of another...completing it.”_

Some fragments of orange lodged in John’s silhouette, while pale blue merged with Xander’s orange. A braid of blue and orange formed between the reformed orbs between the men, binding them together. 

“ _These are called soul bonds.”_ Webby said as though she was teaching a child, “ _Very rare. Sometimes romantic, sometimes sibling-like, sometimes platonic.”_

“So Xander and I are…” He was unsurprised at the revelation. He loved Xander more than anything else in the world, “But being in the Black and White can’t break that bond?” 

She shook her head, and the image shifted, the silhouettes of Ethan, Hannah, and Lex formed, replacing Xander and John’s figures.

Ethan’s soul was a shade of pale green, while Lex’s was a maroon-like color. Their souls had a braid similar to how John and Xander’s had been, but they both had a yellow, twisted tie binding them both to Hannah. 

“ _Braids are romantic...but twists are sibling-like,”_ she explained, “ _Not any less powerful.”_

“You said…” John started, “That the bonds were stretched...that three was too many.”

She nodded and waved her hand again. Suddenly, blood began to seep from Ethan’s figure and his form was dragged away from Lex and Hannah, to hang limply off the side of the web. The figure of John and Xander reappeared, the same thing occurring with John as his figure dangled beside Ethan’s.

The ties binding all of them to the other’s had noticeably stretched, but not snapped. 

Two more figures appeared on the webbed tapestry and he quickly recognized Paul and Emma. 

“ _Every time,”_ Webby whispered, as a braid formed between the two of them. Light blue for Paul, and dark forest green for Emma, “ _Sometimes bonds aren’t found every time. Not these two.”_

John nodded, that was something he and Ethan had noticed while observing the past resets. No matter how odd or new the circumstances of Hatchetfield could be, the two always seemed to find their way to one another. 

“So when Paul was pulled…” He started, but Webby cut him off with a wave of her hand. 

The web shifted again, and the bond was stretched as Paul began to limply hang beside the webbed forms of John and Ethan

“ _Three was too many.”_ She said, _“Fabric stretched too much...past is seeping through.”_

Blood began to seep through the figure of Emma and she began to writhe, as if in pain. With this, the figure of Paul began to shake and writhe on the end of the string as well. 

“ _Too much. Too many memories passing through. Searching for something she doesn’t remember. Drowning.”_ Webby whispered. 

Emma's figure was now drenched in blood. Her writhing had passed into a mild twitching that left John feeling sick.

 _“Influence is tearing the fabric...soon turns won’t matter,”_ Webby said matter-of-factly. 

“So...you’re saying that if we can’t get back to them...the forces of the Black and White won’t have to wait for another reset to have their way?” 

Webby nodded, “ _Resets will still happen...just everyone can have their way…Have to return.”_

“Everyone? Even the ones in the past?” 

Webby nodded with a roll of her eyes, “ _Everyone.”_

The image began to contort as familiar figures began to join the tapestry. He recognized Wiggly, the Apotheosis, the Tears, the Shadows, Hush...and so many that he didn’t even recognize, all converging onto the newly formed image of Hatchetfield. The web began to burn and disintegrate. 

“You’re saying that if we can’t get back...we’re all going to be subjected to an endless state of hell?” John said, unable to comprehend the new information. 

The being nodded, “ _Unless.”_

With that, she disappeared.

And John was alone.

Alone with his thoughts and a message of endless death. 

And he was scared.

\---

Paul knew he probably shouldn’t have been spending this much time watching over Emma.

He knew he probably should be respecting her privacy, seeing as how he would have definitely been creeped out had _he_ been the one that was being watched by someone he didn’t even know existed. But he couldn’t help himself from being worried after she’d collapsed during her interview and he needed to make sure she was okay. 

He’d still keep his distance, but he’d do it so he could at the very least have the assurance that she was okay.

After telling John and Ethan about what was going on with Xander’s knowledge, he’d managed to manifest himself back to the place he’d been beforehand and stay with Emma even seconds after she initially collapsed. 

He’d been so afraid he was going to watch her die again. Her nose had been bleeding ceaselessly and she was muttering things in her sleep, but there was no evidence of any physical trauma, according to a doctor in the PEIP sickbay, so they ruled it mainly as exhaustion and put her on a sedative to let her sleep for a while. 

He had then spent over twenty-four hours pacing throughout Emma’s room and the sickbay itself. The white walls and quiet staff made for very little entertainment, so for the most part he stayed with Emma. 

She was very obviously dreaming, no matter how powerful the sedative had been. Her eyes danced endlessly behind her closed eyelids, and she would move her head around and mutter a few incoherent things. 

Occasionally, her nose would start bleeding again, so a nurse -mainly Becky- would come around, clean her face up, and change the pillow from below her head. Her vitals were normal, minus some increased brain activity and an occasional heartbeat spike, but other than that she seemed perfectly healthy. This provided some relief to Paul as he continued to watch over her. 

Regardless of how restless her sleep looked, she slept for over 27 hours, if the clock on her hospital room wall was correct. 

He’d taken a seat on the floor beside her bed when she woke up. The clock read around 10:32 in the morning and he was playing with his fingers, vaguely paying attention to the noise outside and Emma’s soft breathing.

Which is why he’d been completely shocked when she gasped as she woke up. 

Immediately he snapped to attention and jumped up, trying to place a hand on her back to calm her as she woke up and nervously took in her surroundings, being bitterly reminded that he could no longer touch her. 

“Em...Em, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He whispered as she groggily looked around, knowing she couldn’t hear him. In some ways the repetition of the words that she was okay allowed him to better understand it and calm himself down, “You’re okay, Em.”

She leaned back against the pillows as her breathing calmed down, her eyes squinting in the light of the room. 

She looked frightened, but also like she wouldn’t admit it to herself. With a sigh, he sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she took in her surroundings and the IV that was in her hand. 

He said nothing as she caught her breath. Just seeing her awake was enough for him to calm down. 

Eventually, Becky Barnes came in, followed by, much to his minor surprise, Hannah, who’d only wagered a small glance at him before going to talk to Emma. 

It was then, that her sister followed Hannah into the room and he noticed Ethan standing behind Lex in the hallway. 

As Hannah began to talk to Emma, he stood and walked out to meet him. 

“Hey,” Paul managed to get out, he gestured to the figures of Lex and Hannah behind him “Are they okay?”

Ethan shrugged, “Looks like Lexi had a run-in with their mom last night, but Becky and that Schaeffer woman came to get them this morning.”

Paul nodded, just now registering the red mark on the side of Lex’s face. He didn’t look back as Ethan went on, staring at the ground as he kicked his feet together.

“They’re living on base now, next to Becky...I still…” He paused with a sigh, “I still don’t trust them, though.” 

“But at least they’re away from their mother…” Paul offered, not sure what else to say, “From what little you’ve said maybe it's better here than it is with her.”

Ethan nodded with a vague look of anger, “Pamela couldn’t give two shits about em'. She probably won’t realize they’re gone until she suddenly can’t pay for her Ambien and booze.” 

Paul stiffened, memories of his own childhood coming to mind. He shook them away as Ethan went on. 

“Lex pract...no, she _definitely_ raised Hannah on her own...they don’t have the same Dad...Lex’s is in prison, last I heard, and Pamela doesn’t even know who Hannah’s dad is.” He paused, looking disgusted “I met them when Lex and I were twelve...she was just toting this little five-year-old around with her on weekends, talkin' about how they were tryin' to stay away from their mom while she worked...and that was back when Pamela _had_ a job.”

Paul nodded, listening intently. 

“As soon as Lex was able to work Pamela made sure she lost her job and made Lex the breadwinner…” Ethan trailed off, “All so she could pay for her fuckin’ booze.” 

Memories of his father’s red face and stale breath entered Paul’s mind and he tried desperately to shove them away. 

“I didn’t even know how bad it was til’ Lex came to school one day with bruises and a shit-ton of weed she was gonna give to their mom to appease her.” Ethan said, shaking slightly, “And now I gotta watch it happen over n’ over again.”

Paul looked back at the two girls, at the way Lex’s gaze followed Hannah, protective, loving, and yet somehow so strong. He wished he’d had someone in his childhood to do that for him. He admired the girl, for her strength. In some ways, she reminded him so much of Emma. 

He turned to Ethan, “I’m sorry…” he whispered, knowing how pointless the sentiment was.

Sorry wouldn’t even begin to make up for what these two girls had been through.

Sorry hadn’t been enough when he was born without his father wanting him. 

Sorry hadn’t been enough for his father when he would accidentally drop a dish and break it. 

Sorry hadn't been enough when would get overwhelmed and break down as a child.

Sorry hadn’t been enough when he was diagnosed at age seven with autism. 

Sorry hadn’t been enough when his mother -his only source of comfort and acceptance- died. 

Sorry hadn’t been enough when Paul wasn’t making enough to feed his father’s addiction. 

Sorry hadn’t been enough when Paul announced he was moving out.

Sorry hadn’t been enough when his dad drank himself into a grave. 

His sorry's hadn’t been enough. 

_They had never been enough for anyone._

Except for maybe Bill and Emma.

They were the first two people in his life that he felt he didn't have to apologize for everything he did.

It was strange, sometimes he'd accidentally nudge them and apologize, and they'd simply look at him funny. They understood that repetition of the phrase was something that comforted him, but over time, he knew that _every little thing_ he did didn't warrant an apology.

Unless he'd actually done something that needed an apology, he'd become comfortable enough and confident enough around them to feel like he wasn't living a life where blame was always pointed at him.

They'd even helped him recover from a life where people like his father had blamed him for everything that went wrong in the world. 

As Lex and Hannah followed Becky out of the room, Ethan offered him a curt nod and simply followed them. 

Paul could see that the kid's heart was pure. He may not have been all that smart or been good with words, but Ethan genuinely cared about Lex and Hannah with a purity that Paul had not been sure any kid other than Alice could have been capable of. 

As he watched Ethan follow the girls, he turned back to look at Emma, who seemed lost in thought. He remembered every time they talked about the grief and anguish they both associated with their childhoods.

Some nights one of them would wake up having had bad dreams related to their parents or what they’d seen growing up. Sometimes they would talk about it, the guilt and the pain, but sometimes they would just hold one another. Letting the pain seep away through the physical knowledge that the other was there for them. That the other loved them more than anything. 

He sat down on the bed again, studying Emma, who seemed to be lost in thought. 

As he looked at her, he was reminded of all the bliss and joy he shared with her. 

All the good times they had. 

And then he was reminded of all the good times they hadn’t gotten. 

All the times that were lost to the void. 

All the memories she no longer had. 

He was reminded that he would never get to spend another second with Emma Perkins completely.

That she would never know how much he loved her. 

That she’d never know he’d ever meant something to her at all. 

And he wept. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they were soulmates!! (Oh my God, they were soulmates!)  
> There will come a day when someone gives Paul Matthews a hug...but today is not that day.  
> Say it with me...Ethan. Is. A. Sweetheart.
> 
> Oh yeah and Webby was there too I guess... 
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos to let me know what you think!!  
> As always, THANKS FOR READING!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	12. I'm Looking Right at the Other Half of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex and Hannah get used to their new home.  
> Xander indulges in his favorite pastime.  
> Emma tries to get back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Mirrors" by Justin Timberlake  
> Somehow, I managed to get on an adrenaline high and crank this puppy out today...so hopefully, it doesn't suck :P
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Mentions of child abuse in the first section
> 
> Also, incoming Shipwrecked Comedy and AVPM references!!

Reset No. 6

Date: July 5th, 2018

Being Unknown

Lex shifted uncomfortably in their new home, holding Hannah’s hand tightly. 

It was a small apartment-like unit. With two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a kitchen area/with a small living room, the unit was furnished blandly and didn’t feel entirely like home...not yet at least. 

Of course, that probably had something to do with the fact that they’d left their mother’s tiny trailer just that morning. It was a decision Lex didn’t know she was going to have to make, but it was one she knew she would have to make. 

They’d been at the base for three hours while they arranged for an on-base living situation for them. It was strange, Lex knew… she and her sister had technically been kidnapped by the government...but Hannah shouldn’t have had to spend another day in that trailer with their mother, and God only knew how furious and awful their mother would have been once they woke up and they were still there. 

The woman who’d come with Becky to pick them up, Colonel Schaeffer, had assured her that the housing required no form of rent, which had made Lex suspicious. 

_Nothing good in life was ever free._

Still, Hannah _seemed_ to trust them...and she trusted Hannah more than anyone else so Lex had accepted and taken a look at their new home. 

The two bedrooms each had a full-sized bed, and lacked colors other than varying shades of white and grey...but Lex could work with it. 

She didn’t unpack her backpack and the singular shitty suitcase they’d brought yet. They’d packed _all_ of their belongings (there weren’t many) and left, leaving only a note on a post-it telling their mother to go to hell and that they were never coming back. 

Lex didn’t want to think about what would ever make them go back to their mother. 

She knew it was too late to turn back now. 

As she took in the place that was supposed to be their new home, she felt a slight sense of unease. She’d not been planning on leaving that trailer with Hannah until she’d had enough for California. 

She thought of the shoebox of cash she had stashed in the bottom of their suitcase. She’d had to re-hide that shoebox from her mother several times. Once, when she was sixteen, her mother had found the box and had raided it, screaming at Lex for hours for keeping what was rightfully hers from her. She knew what her mother would spend it on... alcohol of some sort, most likely...and had vowed to never let her find her stash again. Occasionally she would spend spare money on weed to appease her mother and hopefully keep her off her tail. 

For now, they were safe… and hopefully, they would never have to lay eyes on Pamela Foster and her shitty trailer ever again. 

She knew her mother had no idea where she worked, so it was safe to keep working at the mall. Pamela had never cared what her daughter did, as long as she had enough money to buy whatever her addictions desired, she was happy (under the assumption Pamela was capable of that).

Hannah looked up at her, her eyes wide, “Okay?” she asked. 

Lex looked down at her and smiled. In Hannah’s other hand, she held Marley with gentleness, never letting go. The gender-fluid stuffed-mouse had become a comfort for Hannah in times where they would encounter new things. Lex knew this new home would be a major adjustment for her sister. Not wanting to alarm the girl she knelt down and smiled. 

“Well...what does Webby say?” 

Hannah smiled cautiously, and nodded simply, “Safe.”

That was all Lex needed to hear. If Hannah felt safe, then she would try to feel safe for her. 

Hannah had been her everything since she was born. Her mother had gotten pregnant when Lex was six and hadn’t even tried to find the father. Back then, Pamela had actually been _trying._ She’d been _stable_. 

_“Look at it this way, Alexandra,” her mother had said with a small smile on her face, “Maybe your new brother or sister will help make things better.”_

Lex had been so excited at the idea of having a new brother or sister, she tried to do everything in her power to keep her mother happy. She might not have understood what a baby really was...or what a new sibling would be to her. But seeing her mother in a somewhat happy state had made Lex determined to keep it all that way. It wasn’t until after Hannah was born, that Lex realized her mother suddenly had no interest in being a good mother. 

At the time, people told her that her mother had postpartum depression (a term she wouldn’t understand until she was well into her teens)...that bringing little Hannah into the world had made her mother miserable. It was difficult for Lex to understand, but every single time she was asked to “be a big girl” for her mother and new sister she would nod and stare down at the new baby with determination, trying to make everything easier for them. Hopefully, her mother would recover, and they could be a happy family. Lex was sure that if she’d stayed good and helped with the new baby, her mother could be happy again. However, the first weeks of Hannah’s life turned into the first months, and the first few months of Hannah’s life turned into the first few years, Lex had to come to the realization that her supposedly happy mother was never coming back. 

She’d begun to realize this when her mother had dropped Hannah on her head at two years old.

Lex thought it was an accident, but when she’d picked up her screaming sister from her place on the floor of their trailer, she’d looked up at her mother and saw absolutely no remorse. A terrifying thought had occurred to her, then. _Had her mother wanted to drop Hannah?_

She’d been so confused at the time, having been only eight years old. How could someone _want_ to hurt a child as perfect as her sister? How could _her own mother_ do something like that? As confused as she’d been, she was still determined to see her mother happy again, but something inside her became determined to keep Hannah away from her mother as much as she could.

Soon, her mother's blatant vacancy and lack of affection turned into violence and verbal abuse, which only grew with the addition of alcohol and drugs into the environment. She still worked, but it seemed like she couldn’t care less about her daughters. 

She was ten when she realized her mother couldn’t care less about them and that she would have to find a way to keep herself and Hannah safe...she’d get them away...somehow. 

California became her dream when she was thirteen, and as soon as she’d been old enough to work, half of her savings went towards it. 

Now, she was seventeen, her eighteenth birthday approaching quickly, and Hannah was going to turn twelve in a few months. They’d gotten away from their mother sooner than she’d planned, but they’d still gotten away. That was good enough for now. 

A knock at the door sounded making her jump slightly, she looked at Hannah. 

“Becky.” She said with a smile.

As if on cue, Becky’s cheery voice sounded from the other side of the door, “Lex, Hannah, I brought you a few things! May I come in?” 

Lex opened the door to see Becky holding a few big paper bags and smiling. 

Becky was one of the few customers at Toy Zone that Lex could actually tolerate. Between some customers like Sherman Young (who she’d heard got arrested a few days ago), or that bitchy blonde lady whose name she’d not even bothered to learn, a person like Becky was like a breath of fresh air.

Most people would come into Toy Zone and treat her like she was less of a person than them because of the red shitty-quality employee vest. Becky however, had actually learned her name, had asked her about her day when she would come in, and also ask about Hannah. 

Becky treated her like a person because she cared. 

Lex managed a small smile and let her into their apartment. 

“Do you need help?” She asked her. 

“Oh no, Lex,” Becky said with a small laugh, I just brought you some things from the commissary. The cafeteria food isn’t all that great so I figured you could use a few snacks and necessities to start out.” She set the bags down on the countertop, “I remember you said that Hannah liked those Little Debbie snacks one of the last few times I was at Toy Zone, so I grabbed a few for her. There’s also soap, toothbrushes, and other stuff I thought you might need.” 

Becky looked over at Hannah, who’d taken a seat on the couch, looking down at Marley fondly and smiled, “I’m glad to see she’s getting settled.”

“I mean…” Lex trailed off, “We did move in like two hours ago...so…”

“It’s an adjustment?” Becky finished for her, an understanding look in her eyes. 

Lex nodded, “I mean...this morning I was thinking of ways to keep her away from our mom...but now…”

“You’re suddenly away and you don’t know what to do?” Becky finished again, her smile was gentle. 

“Yeah…” Lex said, “How’d you get wrapped up in all this?” 

Becky’s eyes softened, her expression turned almost _guilty._

“Um...when my...my _husband_ left me…” She started carefully, “I-uh...I couldn’t go back into work without feeling...off.” She nodded at her own words as if she was trying to convince herself. 

She sighed and went on, “Somehow PEIP got wind of my record as a nurse and decided to recruit me, offering me a home here and a job where I could get a fresh start.” 

“I...um…” Lex started, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry...I didn’t-.” 

Becky shook her head with a small smile, “Oh no it’s fine! He was an asshole anyway.”

In spite of the forced smile, Lex could still see the guilt and anguish in her eyes. Becky was still smiling as she changed the subject. 

“So- um...You girls know where the infirmary is, and you know I live right next door if you need anything right?” At Lex’s nod, she went on, “Tomorrow, one of the lead scientists here is gonna interview you both. We’ll come and get you when they’re ready. We called into work for you, Lex, and let Frank know you’re gonna be out.”

Lex was suddenly nervous, “Interview?” 

“Oh, he’s just gonna ask you both a few questions, you’ll be together,” she went on with a genuine smile, “And I’ll be there too to oversee it.”

Lex nodded again, “Okay, thanks…”

With that Becky offered her another comforting smile and closed the door behind her as she left. 

Lex looked back at Hannah, still playing with Marley on the couch. 

She thought back to the events from earlier today, when they’d gone into the infirmary and saw that barista from Beanies. What was she doing there? What had happened to her?

What had Hannah meant when she’d said the barista was like her? A mosaic?

She shook these thoughts away as she curled up on the couch next to her sister, leaning over the armrest, watching her play. 

As she considered these things, the real question preying on her mind was still there. 

_What had she gotten them into?_

\---

Xander looked over the transcripts from Emma’s interview for the millionth time with a sigh.

It had been nearly two days since his interview with her, and he was still in need of answers. He’d only shown her two of the three images, and she’d only been able to recognize Hannah Foster. 

He looked up to the bulletin board he’d positioned right next to his whiteboard with the mystery equations. He’d pinned the images from the car crash onto the board and had stared at them for hours. So much so, that the highlighted portions were still visible when he closed his eyes. 

He’d managed to get some sleep, much to his own chagrin, at the orders of June (In truth, she’d threatened that _she’d_ interview the Foster girls and finish up with Emma’s if he didn’t sleep).

The plan was to interview the Foster girls around noon tomorrow, and then finish Emma’s interview around 2:00 after she got back from work. After her collapse, he’d wanted to keep her in the infirmary, but seeing as her CT scans and MRI came up normal, and she had work the next day, Schaeffer had driven her home. It was still strange...she’d just started bleeding profusely from her nose and the next thing they knew, she was unconscious on the floor. 

He’d emailed Wilkins, the overseer of the Medical Department, to send him copies of Emma’s scan results and her chart from her time in the med bay, and was still awaiting a response. 

He pushed these thoughts away as he looked at the image of the fourth anomaly. The turquoise, man-like shape following him around. The turquoise indicated that this anomaly was in between the strengths of the anomaly that had saved Emma and the anomaly that was seen next to Hannah Foster.

What was this? 

What did this anomaly want with him? 

How long had it been following him?

Was it even following him?

He tried to silence these questions. Hopefully Hannah Foster could provide some answers, but still, his mind would not be silenced.

It was now 5:00 in the afternoon, not late enough for June to come in and yell at him for not sleeping. He couldn’t really do anything while waiting for Wilkin’s response. And the lack of an interview for the remainder of the day had left him staring simply at the data and the photographs. 

So, instead of letting his brain fill with questions and facts that he couldn’t list in his head, he decided to paint. 

He kept a small compact of watercolors in a desk drawer for these kinds of days. They were the basic colors of the rainbow, a gift from June years before. The top of the tin was stained with remnants of colors he used beforehand, he looked at them as though they were old friends. He pulled a small container of good-quality brushes he’d gotten a long time ago, selecting a few from the container before shutting the drawer.

He cleared his desk of anything important, trying to ensure that he wouldn’t spill paint water on anything important when it hit him.

What would he paint? 

Nothing easily came to mind. Sure, he’d sketched a couple of new things the night before but none of them seemed to fit what was in his…

Oh. 

Now he knew.

He’d kept revisiting that old sketch. The one he’d affectionately named John. The night before, he’d added ink to capture the details of his face, miraculously not screwing the image up. What if he added color? He didn’t want to use prismacolors or colored pencils...why not watercolor.  
Somehow that seemed to suit the picture better. 

He carefully drew the thick paper containing John’s face out of his personal file he’d neatly filled with his spare drawings and sketches. Unfortunately, he couldn’t label it ‘portfolio’ without raising the eyebrows of others, but that's essentially what it was. A compilation of twelve years of mindless artwork he’d done on nights where he would get bored.

He studied John’s face, now much more clear to him now that it was outlined in black ink. The smaller details of his face, such as the stubble dotting his chin and underneath his nose, were so much more clear...and he was very proud...a rare occurrence with most of his drawings. 

He got himself some water from the water fountain in the hallway and began to work. 

He lost track of time as he added life to the sketch of John. He’d decided on red for his hair, somehow that suited the wildness that he associated with him. The eyes had been tricky to decide on, he was torn between a light blue and a dark brown...but then settled on an olive-like green. 

In a spur of a moment, he mixed some of the white watercolor he had with the tones he’d used to color John's forehead and the base of the rest of his face and made a small jagged line through the man’s bushy russet eyebrows. As he contoured the scar with darker shades of red, he hoped he didn’t botch the image completely. 

As the hours passed on, John began to come to life in his mind, almost as though he was a real person in to Xander.

Once he was done, he checked his watch and found that over three hours had passed since he’d begun. He stood back to admire his work and suddenly found himself breathless. 

This...this was probably the best thing he’d ever painted. 

And it almost scared him. 

As he looked at the painted face staring back at him, he almost felt as though he was looking at the face of an old friend. The beret he’d drawn into the picture suddenly reminded him of the one Schaeffer was often seen wearing.

Had he met someone like this before? Maybe it was someone he’d met when he first joined PEIP. In basic training, perhaps?

Thinking about it hurt his head. 

He smiled at the picture, “There you are, John.” 

With a satisfied sigh, he gently and carefully moved the painted image to the side of his desk and began to pack up so he could go home. 

He’d have to draw John again at some point. 

\---

As soon as she’d been able to get out of the sickbay at PEIP HQ, Emma had realized she had enough time to go to her class with Hidgens, one she never wanted to miss. As soon as she made it home, she grabbed her school stuff, started her car (which decided it actually wanted to work today, thank God), and drove over there as quickly and as safely as she could.

She’d noticed her teacher had looked skinnier than normal and not as healthy. She’d have to bring him groceries or something at some point in the future. 

Now that classes were over, it was 10:00 and she wasn’t tired. She had a shift at Beanies in the morning, and yet she still had readings she needed to finish before she could sleep. Turns out that sleeping for a solid twenty-seven hours was going to screw up your circadian rhythm. 

She sat on the couch and began to work hastily, but diligently, typing out the notes as thoroughly as she could, also catching up on the notes she’d missed from the days before. She knew she would hate how tired she’d feel later, but catching up and making sure she was doing what she needed to do was important. She _needed_ this whole college thing to work. 

It was 12:30 when she checked the clock on her laptop again but she kept working. She’d only made it through maybe seventy percent of the notes she needed to get done. Compliments of a near-death experience, having a mental breakdown, getting kidnapped by the government, and subsequently blacking out. Yippee-skippy.

Her head had started hurting, probably because she was staring at a screen for over two hours without getting up much. She planned on getting some Tylenol or Ibuprofen as soon as she finished this chapter. 

As she started to finish up her typed notes for Professor Mulcahey’s class, her headache got worse. Rising from a dull throb into a near stabbing pain within her skull. 

She groaned and stood about to go for her bathroom cabinet, but spots spun in her vision and she fell back onto her couch limply like a ragdoll. 

She registered the feeling and smell of blood pouring from her nose as darkness claimed her.

_She was back in that same house cuddled up against that same guy._

_The blinds were drawn but she could tell it was night. The only source of light was from the TV, which was softly playing a black and white movie. An empty bowl that had once held popcorn sat on their coffee table, having been ravaged within the first twenty minutes of the movie. Their cat was curled up across their legs, clearly finding their laps very comfortable as their little family of three watched the movie._

_She looked up at him, as he was watching the movie intently, the light from the TV screen reflecting off of his glasses. One hand was absentmindedly stroking the cat’s fur, while the other one was comfortably wound around her shoulders. And she felt happy._

_They were watching an old noir film called_ The Case of the Gilded Lily, _as he was a major fan of old films and she was more than happy to watch him geek out over the history behind it and the_

_“...and some of these actors...they were all in one of greatest silent films of the late 20’s” He was saying excitedly, “They were all teenagers back in the day, but several of them were in American Whoopee.”_

_She just watched him with fondness as he went on._

_“If I remember the ones who were in both were Minta Monroe, she plays Vivian Nightingale, Slim Sockwillow, he plays Ford Phillips, Veronica Boxton plays Wilhelmina Van Der Jetski, and Bimbo Finnegan plays Fig Wineshine.”_

_“Who names their kid Bimbo?” She questioned aloud._

_He merely shrugged, “They might have just been stage names or something.”_

_She nodded and went back to watching the film. They were at the climax of the story, where they found out who was behind a dastardly blackmailing scheme._

_“Here’s the funny thing…” He went on, “When they were filming this, The four main actors all played a major role in the writing and production of the film itself!”_

_She smiled at his excited tone and giddy smile. God, she would kill for that smile._

_On their laps, Socks yawned and rolled over, adjusting the position of her own hand to be closer to his tail._

_“American Whoopee?” She asked, “Wasn’t that like a 1925 scandal film?”_

_He nodded, “It’s kinda like a modern teen sex comedy...only in the nineteen twenties...I think a bunch of modern tropes come from it...censors apparently ‘gasped in horror’ according to the few existing reviews. It was a silent film, so it’s kinda on my list of movies to watch with you at some point.”_

_“We’ve never done a silent film before…” She laughed, “That’ll be new.”_

_He agreed with a matching laugh, “Yeah...It's really cheesy, especially for the nineteen twenties, but it's really fun to watch.”_

_She laughed and went back to watching the movie. Socks, annoyed with the lack of attention he was receiving, walked off the couch, hopping gracefully to the floor and scurrying out of sight._

_She sighed and cuddled closer to him, nestling her head into the crook of his neck, watching the remaining minutes of the film absent-mindedly._

_As the film ended, he eased himself off of the couch and walked into the kitchen bringing the popcorn bowl with him. When he returned, he flopped down dramatically on the couch, burying his face in her lap._

_She smiled and began to run her hands through his hair._

_“You know it’s crazy,” he murmured, slightly muffled against her pajama pants, “I never thought I’d ever be here, with you…”_

_“As horrible as your flirting was, I’m just as surprised as you.” She joked, he groaned and turned over so he could look up at her. She pushed a hand through his hair again, and he nuzzled into it._

_“I mean it, Em.”He said, his voice soft and completely serious, “I thought that all I had was a stupid crush that most definitely gonna not result in a three-year relationship with us living together.”_

_“And a cat?” She said, raising an eyebrow._

_“And the cat.” He said with a smile, “The point is...I never thought we’d get...this.”_

_“This?”_

_“This.”_

_“Is this...okay?” She said, raising her eyebrows playfully._

_“This...is_ wonderful _…” He said in a soft tone that melted her heart, he closed his eyes seemingly losing himself in the sensation of her hands through his hair._

_She shook her head and wiped away something from her eyes that definitely was NOT a tear. This stupid dork was NOT making her feel things._

_As she studied the round curve of his jaw, his full lips she loved to kiss, his floppy brown hair her hands could spend hours running through, and his eyes which were still closed, she wondered how_ she’d _ended up here._

 _Commitment in a relationship was not something Emma had ever been good with, regardless of whether it was romantic or not. It followed her into friendships, it followed her into work...it made it very difficult to connect to someone. She’d never even really_ wanted _to connect with anyone in Hatchetfield once she came back...with the exception of Tim._

_But him...he was different._

_He’d made her feel like she was_ wanted. _Like she belonged. Like she was something beautiful and smart and strong. Like she was basically everything people had told her she wasn’t growing up._

 _Somehow, this dork had stumbled, tipped, and bought black coffees into her life, and she’d_ let him. _Maybe it was because...she wanted him in her life just as much as he wanted her in his._

_For once, she’d found someone she felt like she could stay with and not feel like they were demanding something more from her. Demanding something she couldn’t give._

_For once she felt safe._

_For once...she felt_ loved. 

_He was happy to be hers, and she was happy to be_ _his_.

_“Hey…” she whispered, looking down at him._

_“Hmm?” he cracked open his eyes._

_“I…” she paused, she could either say something really sweet right now or give him shit._

_She chose the latter._

_“I...think we should either switch places, or you come up here and make out with me.” She said, trying to keep all the bubbly butterfly feelings inside her chest._

_He merely smiled and laughed, eager to heed her suggestion. As he sat up, barely avoiding bonking his head into hers, he pulled her closer to him and pressed kisses to her cheeks, his nose barely poking her eyelids and making her giggle._

_She fell backward and pulled him over her, wrapping an arm around his neck so she could still play with the short ends of his hair with her fingers._

_Using her free hand, she pulled his glasses gently from his face. She did this slowly and carefully as she didn’t want to poke out his eye in the process of making out with him. That would definitely ruin the mood. She extended herself as far as she could with her short arms and placed them on the coffee table. He merely chuckled at this and went back to kissing her._

_His kisses began to trail down her neck and she smiled, pulling him closer to her. She gently trailed her hands down and under his shirt, reveling in the feeling of his soft skin and muscles. She tried to avoid scratching him as he was definitely leaving marks on her neck and collarbone that would most definitely be a pain to cover in the morning, but she couldn’t bring herself to care._

_Eventually, his lips found their way to her own again._ Man, he had nice lips. 

_Meeting one another’s lips passionately, they felt as though everything in the world was perfect. She bit down on his lower lip and he groaned into her mouth, making her giggle. She deepened the kiss and smiled when his eyes met hers._

_To them, they could only see one another._

_There were no impending weekly reports or work shifts._

_There were no finals or annoying singing coworkers._

_There were no Ted’s or kooky reclusive biology professors._

_There was only Emma...and…_

_And..._

_His name wasn’t there...she couldn’t remember it._

_She’d said it earlier, hadn’t she?_

_Suddenly, her head was flaring in pain._

_It was excruciating, making every light blinding and every small sound seem deafening. She felt as though she was either going to pass out or vomit right there._

_He noticed her pained expression. In a panic he sat up looking at her concernedly, fear and stress blooming in his eyes. For a moment it looked as though he thought he’d done wrong._

_“Em, babe, are you okay?”_

_His voice seemed to boom and echo in her ears and her hands came to her temples, squeezing, trying to alleviate the pain with more pressure._

_She only let out a pained whimper as a response and he cupped her head gently in his hands._

_His voice was shaky but gentle when he spoke again, “Em...Em, baby what’s wrong? What can I do?”_

_A pained cry escaped her lips and she burrowed herself into him, burying her face into his neck, as he held her tightly._

_“It's okay, Em...I promise I’ve got you,” He whispered, his voice afraid and unsure of what to do, “What do you need?...I’ve got you, Em, I promise.”_

_Suddenly everything was loud...everything was screaming and booming. A cacophony of noise that made the pain in her head even worse. She gripped him tighter, tears squeezing their way out of her eyes as she hid her face in his neck._

_“Em, I’ve got you...I promise...I got you…”_

She gasped as she sat up. Her eyes open and her breathing rapid.

Her head still hurt with a dull thud, like someone was taking a very small jackhammer and jamming it into the side of her skull.

Her eyes felt puffy and crusty like she’d been crying or having an allergic reaction to something in her sleep.

As she pushed herself up on her elbows, she realized that her hair was plastered to her head oddly. 

She looked over her shoulder and was met with a very ugly smear of dark red...staining the floor of her apartment. The metallic scent of blood hit her quickly, making her head ache more. 

_Shit._

For a moment she wondered if her landlady would kill her if there were bloodstains on the floor. She was pretty sure someone had already been murdered somewhere in the building already so she could easily clean it up and not have people questioning what had happened. 

Also…how had she ended up on the floor?

She brought a hand to her face and was met by the very unpleasant sensation of drying blood on her face, crusted over and sticking to her skin like acrylic paint. 

When she tried to run her hand through her hair, she was met by a ratty nest of blood-soaked hair that had mostly dried and would be painful to wash out. 

She sighed and muttered a few small curses. 

What the hell had happened? 

As she got up and scrubbed the blood from the floor as best she could without ruining the cheap floor’s already-shitty quality, she grabbed some ibuprofen and threw a quick glance at the clock on the small kitchen counter.

 _Perfect,_ she still had two hours before she had to go to Beanies for her shift. She could fit in a long shower and hopefully, look less like she’d just come from a murder scene. 

Come to think of it...she hadn’t even seen what she looked like yet.

Throwing the bloodstained towels haphazardly into the kitchen sink, she stumbled to the bathroom, picking up her other Beanie’s uniform combination- An identical blouse and a black skirt- on the way. 

She turned on the water and turned to look at herself in the mirror. 

She gasped when she saw herself. 

She looked more like a corpse than a human.

Her hair was matted to her skull with a rust-colored shade of something awful. Her skin had become a lot paler...or at least what she could see of it.

She probably would have been able to make out her facial features had it not been for the mass of dried blood that nearly covered her full face like a mask. Ugly trails of red-brown marred her face, marking where their rivers had found their way on her skin. 

It was then, with immense shock, that she realized that all of the blood could not have come from her nose. 

Some had come from her eyes. It was evident from the way the trails and stains had made themselves at home from the side of her face. 

In the immense wave of shock that overtook her, she could only think one coherent thought. 

_What the_ fuck _happened?_

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo...I may or may not have rewatched American Whoopee so I could get all their character's names. 
> 
> Lex is a good big sister, and Becky is too good for this world.  
> Again, you can pry Artist!Xander from my cold dead hands.  
> I think I'm alternating between making Paul and Emma suffer...but its a necessary evil.  
> Anyway, I've just realized it's midnight and I'm still gonna post this (and my Tumblr URL makes sense). 
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos!!! I love hearing from you guys!!  
> THANKS FOR READING!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	13. Now You're Standing There Tongue Tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander's interview with Hannah and Lex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name for this chapter title comes from "Policy of Truth" by Depeche Mode (which absolutely SLAPS)

Reset No. 6

Date: July 6th, 2018

Being Unknown

* * *

PEIP INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPTION FORM

INTERDIMENSIONAL ANOMALY

CASE INTERVIEW #0002 TRANSCRIPT

* * *

SUBJECT: Foster, Hannah Nicole, and Foster, Alexandra Kendall 

SUBJECT OCCUPATION: Stock-Girl( Toy Zone-Foster, A.), Unemployed (Foster, H.)

DATE: 07/06/2018

TIME INITIATED: 12:32

TIME TERMINATED: 13:21

INTERVIEWER: Lee, Xander James (Major)

INTERVIEWER ACCESS CODE: AF7890

WITNESS: Barnes, Rebecca “Becky” Lorraine (Agent) 

WITNESS ACCESS CODE: VR5621

TECHNICAL WITNESS: Schaeffer, June Patricia (Colonel)

TECHNICAL WITNESS ACCESS CODE: TW4329

* * *

-INTERVIEW INITIATED-

* * *

LEE, XANDER J. (Major): Begin IDA Case Interview 002. Major Xander James Lee -access code Alpha, Foxtrot, 7-8-9-0- overseeing this interview, on the date of July sixth, 2018.

BARNES, REBECCA L. (Med. Agent): Agent Rebecca ‘Becky’ Lorraine Barnes as a witness...access code Victor, Romeo, 5-6-2-1.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Please state your full name for the record, Miss Foster. And if you could do the same for your sister.

FOSTER, ALEXANDRA K. (Subject B): Uh...Alexandra “Lex” Kendall Foster...and this is Hannah Nicole Foster. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Please state your date of birth. 

FOSTER, A.: Ummm...August 1st, 2000. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): And your sister?

FOSTER, A.: I don’t see how that's important.

BARNES, R. (Med.): It’s for records, Lex. 

FOSTER, A.: *long exaggerated sigh* Hannah’s birthday is December 12th, 2007. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): And have you traveled outside the country in the past three years?

FOSTER, A.: Do I look like the kind of person who can afford to do that? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): My apologies, Miss Foster. The time is currently 12:32 in the central time zone, Colonel June Patricia Schaeffer -access code Tango, Whiskey, 4-3-2-9 - remains a secondary witness via security footage.

FOSTER, A.: I can answer most of his questions, Hannah, you don’t need to-

FOSTER, HANNAH N. (Subject A): No. Supposed to answer. Webby says. 

[Foster, A. sighs]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Alright then, I would like to begin by asking you where your place of employment is, Miss Foster?  
  


FOSTER, A.: I work at the Toy Zone at Lakeside Mall.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Frank Pricely’s place?

FOSTER, A.: Yeah, that's my boss. 

LEE, X. (Maj.):*chuckles* I’m sorry. 

FOSTER, A.: You know Frank?

LEE, X. (Maj.): That sort of information is classified...but yeah, I know of his reputation. 

FOSTER, A.: Believe me, if I could afford to quit I would. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): I believe you. Now, Miss Foster, when you are working, where does Hannah go?

FOSTER, A.: She hasn’t been in school for a few years so I let her hang around the mall mostly. Frank won’t let her stay in the breakroom so if I can’t find someone like Grace or Deb to watch her she’ll hang around the mall. Sometimes I can sneak her into a movie if I threaten the kid who works there enough. I just don’t like her being at home. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): And Grace and Deb are…?

FOSTER, A.: Grace Chastity is a girl I used to go to school with. She’s real good with kids and loves Hannah. If I’m working a weekend, she’ll sometimes go to her house. Deb Rodgers is another friend of mine who skips a lot, so she’ll hang with Hannah if I’m too busy. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): I’m assuming Deb is short for Deborah?

FOSTER, A.: Nah, it’s actually Deblina or some ~~shit~~ like that...wait can I curse on this?

LEE, X.(Maj.): It’ll get redacted, so yeah, ~~fuckin~~ ’ go for it. 

FOSTER, A.: ~~Fuck~~ yeah!  
  


SCHAEFFER, JUNE P. (Colonel): *Via speakers* Please remain on topic. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Oh June, you’re no fun. So, anyways, Miss Foster, were you working on Saturday, June 31st? 

FOSTER, A.: Nah, I had a day off. I spent the day with Hannah, walkin’ around downtown and some stuff like that. She was having a bad day and Pamela was in a bad mood so I…

LEE, X. (Maj.): And Pamela is…?

FOSTER, A.: Our mother. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): I see. Did you go into a coffee shop called Beanies at any point during the day?

FOSTER, A.: Uh...yeah, how’d you know? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Just a hunch. Now, I take it you worked on Sunday?

FOSTER, A.: Yeah… Frank, in spite of all his ‘holier than thou’ ~~bullshit~~ makes us work on Sundays, while he goes to church to keep up appearances. One of the managers, Tyler was there instead and I almost committed a murder. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): And where was Hannah?

FOSTER, A.: Deb’s house. Deb’s parents are chill with me and they like Hannah. They don’t have church so they’re cool with Hannah hanging out with Deb. Besides, Hannah seems to like Deb, so that makes it easier. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): How long do your Sunday shifts last?

FOSTER, A.: Usually from seven to three. 

LEE, X.(Maj.): And Hannah was with Deb the whole time?

FOSTER, A.: Uh, yeah...Deb and her girlfriend, Alice, were with her the whole time, right Banana?

FOSTER, H.: No. 

FOSTER, A.: What...what do you mean, Hannah? Deb and Alice were with you the whole time. 

FOSTER, H.: They were with me. Wasn’t with them. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): What do you mean, Hannah?

FOSTER, A.: You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to, Banana. 

FOSTER, H.: Lexi, Webby says he’s good. Like you. Like Emma. Mosaic. 

[skip 00:01:34 of silence]

LEE, X.(Maj.): Hannah, when you said Emma, did you mean Emma Perkins?

FOSTER, H.: *nods* Nice. Webby says she’s good.

FOSTER, A.: You mean the barista from Beanies? 

LEE, X.(Maj.): Yes, Miss Foster. 

FOSTER, A.: What does she have to do with this? Also, *turns to Barnes, R.* was that her in the medical-place-thing yesterday?

BARNES, R.(Med.): Yes that was her.

FOSTER, A.: What happened to her?

FOSTER, H.: Seeping through. Too much.

LEE, X. (Maj.): We will get there in a second, Lex. Hannah, when you said that you were not with Deb and Alicia…

FOSTER, H.: Alice. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Alice. I’m sorry. When you said you weren’t with Alice and Deb, but they were with you...what did you mean?

FOSTER, H.: Watching. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Watching what?

FOSTER, H.: Anomalies. 

[skip 00:02:21 of silence]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Hannah, did you know there was a car accident in front of Beanies on Sunday?

[Foster, H. nods]

LEE, X. (Maj.): You said you were watching...was that what you were watching?

[Foster, H. nods]

LEE, X. (Maj.): How were you watching?

FOSTER, A.: What the ~~fuck~~? 

FOSTER, H.: Webby. Showed me. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): And who is Webby? 

FOSTER, H.: Spins webs. Whispers. From the void. 

LEE, X, (Maj.): So...Webby is a spider...from Space…?

FOSTER, H.: Yes...and no. Black and White. 

[Skip 00:05:19 of silence]

FOSTER, A.: I’M SORRY…WHAT THE ~~FUCK~~?!

LEE, X. (Maj.): Please calm down, Miss Foster. Hannah, how do you know about the Black and White?

FOSTER, H.: See it. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): You can see it?

FOSTER, H.: Webby shows me. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): She shows you...what exactly?

FOSTER, H.: What I need to see. Not everyone can see. Not everyone can hear her. I can. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Hannah… Did you see the anomalies themselves?

[Foster, H. nods]

[Rustling of papers]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Hannah...I’m gonna show you some pictures from the wreck… if that's okay with you?

[Foster, H. nods]

LEE, X. (Maj.):*to Foster, A.* These were taken at a car accident that happened in front of Beanies on Sunday. At that time, the sensors that our organization had placed discreetly throughout squir-the street. 

FOSTER, H.: Stupid street name. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): My sentiments exactly...as I was saying, every single sensor was set off by this event. After sifting through the traffic camera footage, we managed to capture images of four anomalies that could have only been visible for only a collective three milliseconds...I want you both to look at them and see if you recognize any of them. 

[Rustling of papers as Major Lee shows the subjects the images]

FOSTER, A.: What do all the colors mean?

LEE, X. (Maj.): The darker the color, the more powerful the anomaly. 

FOSTER, A.: Then why the ~~fuck~~ does the purple one look like Hannah?

FOSTER, H.: Me. Watching. Webby is very powerful. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): So, Webby is the reason you’re there. 

FOSTER, H.: Watching. 

FOSTER, A.: Wait...wait-what? I thought Webby was just an imaginary-

FOSTER, H.: Not imaginary. Real. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): How long have you been able to hear Webby and see the Black and White?

FOSTER, H.: Forever. And beyond. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Can you look at the green figure, Hannah? Do you know who that is?

FOSTER, A.: Is that...blood? It’s not very clear, but it looks like blood. 

FOSTER, H.: Ethan. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): So, it does have a name. 

FOSTER, H.: He has a name. Watching. Like me. 

FOSTER, A.: Wait, Hannah, you mean like Ethan from yesterday?

FOSTER, H.: Same. Bound to you and me.

FOSTER, A.: What does that mean, Banana? 

FOSTER, H.: Watches us. Tries to protect us. I can’t see him...Webby tells me he’s there. 

FOSTER, A.: *Unintelligible muttering* So...is he a ghost?

FOSTER, H.: Dead...but not. In Black and White. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): You said Ethan protects you?

FOSTER, H.: Tries. Can’t. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): And he was watching this event with you?

FOSTER, H.: From the Black and White.

LEE, X. (Maj.): These anomalies are from the Black and White?

FOSTER, H.: Trapped. Not supposed to be there. Bound. Mosaic.

LEE, X. (Maj.): What about the blue one, Hannah? Do they have a name? 

[Skip 00:01:38 of silence]

FOSTER, A.: Banana?

FOSTER, H.: Not time yet.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Not time for what?

FOSTER, H.: His name. Not time yet. Bound to Emma.

LEE, X. (Maj.): He’s bound to Emma?

FOSTER, H.: Mosaic. Bound. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): It looks like he was the one to push her out of the way...is that true?

FOSTER, H.: Pushed through. Their bond is strong. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Would Emma know who he is. 

FOSTER, H.: Can’t remember. Tries. Seeping through. Too much. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma can’t remember him? 

FOSTER, H.: Never existed. Not here. But not gone. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): I’m sorry...but I don’t understand. 

FOSTER, H.: Past. Not here, but not gone. Bond is stretched, but not broken. Fabric stretched too much. Seeping through. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): So...Ethan and...the one that saved Emma never existed?

FOSTER, H.: Not here at least. Past is seeping through. Emma’s drowning in it. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Moving on… Miss Foster, can you look at the picture I have of the final anomaly...what can you tell me about this one.

[rustling of papers]

[skip 00:01:59 of silence]

FOSTER, H.: John. 

[choking noises]

[skip 00:00:21 of silence]

LEE, X. (Maj.): I-I’m sorry?

FOSTER, H.: Webby says that’s his name. John.

[More silence]

FOSTER, H.: Bound to you. Can’t see him, but Webby says that's who he is.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Could...could you excuse me for a moment? 

[sounds of a door opening and closing as Major Lee leaves the room]

FOSTER, A.: What the ~~fuck~~ was that?

BARNES, R. (Med.): I don’t know, Lex, but we should be nearing the end of this soon. Don’t worry. 

FOSTER, H.: He’s like you, Lexi. Bound. Mosaic. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): What exactly does that mean, Hannah?

FOSTER, H.: Broken souls. Need glue. Incomplete. Bound to another. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): You mean like a soulmate?

FOSTER, H.: Yes...and no. Powerful bond. Unbroken, but stretched. 

[sounds of a door opening and closing as Major Lee returns to the room] 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Hannah...is this...Is this John?

[sound of the rustling of paper]

FOSTER, H.: John. Seeping through. You remember. 

[Skip 00:04:42 of silence]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Th...thank you Lex, Hannah, you’ve been most helpful. This interview has been terminated at thirteen twenty-one in the afternoon. Becky, if you would show them back to their residential quarters, I would greatly appreciate it. 

* * *

-INTERVIEW TERMINATED-

* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was really easy to write (due to it just being dialogue) and somehow my brain didn't blank halfway through this because I lack self-control.
> 
> Now Xander's getting some hints...things are gonna get really interesting from here on out.  
> Lex and Hannah are precious...that's it, that's the chapter. 
> 
> Please yell at me in the comments or leave kudos if so desired, I would really appreciate it!!  
> As always, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING MY BULLCRAP!!
> 
> My Tumblr:@ShhImAvoidingSleep


	14. Tidal Waves Don't Beg Forgiveness, Crashed and on Their Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander tries to pull himself together and finish his interview with Emma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Man of the Hour" by Pearl Jam. 
> 
> Incoming TCB references (and there's a whole lotta them)!!!
> 
> Also, this bad boy is very long, so I'm sorry :/

Reset No. 6

Date: July 6th, 2018

Being Unknown

Xander ran to his office and locked the door behind him. Unable to comprehend what was happening. 

That interview had gone weird, that was for certain. Nothing seemed right. 

John was _real_? 

John was an anomaly?

And better yet, he was _bound_ to him in some way?

He ran over Hannah’s words, his mind racing. 

_“Never existed. Not here. But not gone.”_

What was up with that? So, John, Ethan, and the anomaly that had saved Emma never existed according to Webby...Webby…

The absurdity of it all hit him suddenly. 

He was taking the word of an eleven-year-old...who could supposedly hear a spider.... from the Black and White. 

At least this kinda confirmed that the Black and White existed and wasn’t founded on some PEIP founder bullshit delusion. 

He looked down at the painting of John he still clutched in his hand.

Who was he? Had they ever known one another? 

What did Hannah mean when she said that they were bound in some way?

Was John like his guardian angel or something? 

He decided to take a deep breath and run through the facts in his head. That always helped calm him down when he didn’t understand things. 

  1. _On June 31st the sensor on Squirrel Street positioned outside of Beanies had been set off._
  2. _There’s no security footage from inside Beanies that would indicate visual contact._
  3. _On July 1st, Emma Perkins (who had also been present at the first anomaly) was nearly hit by Sherman Young driving his mother’s car before subsequently nearly being crushed by a collapsing telephone pole. Miraculously, she was pushed out of the way by persons unknown._
  4. _All of the sensors on Squirrel Street were set off._
  5. _Upon reviewing the footage using Rodney’s software, he was able to locate and highlight four visual images of anomalies._
  6. _The strongest anomaly (highlighted in purple) was identified as Hannah Foster (who’d also been present at Beanies during the first anomaly)_
  7. _The other three anomalies were at varying strength._
    1. _Strongest- Anomaly that saved Emma (Dark blue)_
    2. _Middle- Anomaly named John (Turquoise)_
    3. _Weakest- Anomaly named Ethan (Green)_
  8. _Emma was extremely exhausted and passed out when viewing the image of the blue anomaly (with a bloody nose)_
  9. _According to Hannah Foster, she communicates with a being from the Black and White (File BW001) called Webby (Might be a spider)_
  10. _According to Hannah Foster, she and her sister are bonded to the being named Ethan (though the nature of this bond is unclear)_
  11. _According to Hannah Foster, Emma was bound to the being that had saved her._
    1. _The being, whose name couldn’t be revealed because it “Wasn’t time”_
  12. _Xander had absentmindedly painted the face of the being he was supposed to be bonded to...a being he’d named John…_
  13. _Hannah had been able to see the Anomaly that had saved Emma, but not John or Ethan without Webby telling her they were there._
  14. _Hannah had been able to identify (via Webby?) John’s face from the painting._
  15. _Therefore, he now knew what the anomaly he’d been bonded to looked like._
  16. _Because Ethan and John are supposedly human, it is safe to assume that the third is human as well._
  17. _According to the transcribed conversation from when he’d left to go retrieve the painting...the bonds were similar to the concept of soulmates._
  18. _According to Hannah Foster, the three anomalies had never existed_
    1. _“Never existed. Not here. But not gone.”- Whatever the heck that meant_
  19. _By that logic, his soulmate never existed (which doesn’t make any sense at all)._
  20. _Webby was real, apparently ( Mental note: see file #BW0028- CHW)_
  21. _Xander was getting a headache thinking about this._



He sighed and sat back in his chair. He glanced at the scarily life-like painting. It was true...the painting was probably one of his best. And it was one of the few sketches he’d done of a _person._ He’d never known what kinds of people to draw. He never wanted to draw his coworkers, to him that was weird. One day...the face just _came to him._

Now that he thought about it, the idea had come around last Christmas. He’d been doing nothing, other than going out to get a drink with June on Christmas Eve, when the idea came to him. It was probably one of the easiest things for him to draw. For once, in his drawing career, an extremely clear idea had come to him and he’d been able to execute it to near perfection. 

Little did he know that he was staring into the face of his...nonexistent-almost-soulmate?

He wished he had memories he could associate with this person. If the person had ever existed. The way the face stared him down seemed to remind him of a soldier...so he was probably a soldier if he ever existed. 

So many questions were swirling around in Xander’s head. He had no idea what to make of this person. 

If they’d ever known one another, did they have nicknames for one another? Was their bond romantic or platonic? Was he in the Black and White watching over him? Did he even exist?

_Was Hannah just leading him on about this?_

It was all so preposterous...suddenly he found himself _hoping_ he had someone like this. 

He wouldn’t deny that the face was attractive...but the face supposedly belonged to a nonexistent anomaly from the _Black and White._

He’d never seen that much evidence that would indicate the Black and White was real. Sure, the more senior members of PEIP claimed they’d seen several different anomalies from the Black and White, influencing the world. Mainly Hatchetfield...which was one of the main reasons PEIP had established a headquarters there, but still he’d never seen anything himself. 

Then again, he was taking the word of an eleven-year-old. 

But what _else_ could those anomalies be? 

His phone rang and he pressed the speaker button. 

“This is Lee.” He said, his voice weary. 

“Major Lee, this is Petty Officer Taylor,” The jumbled voice said, “Emma Perkins is here.” 

He sighed, he’d nearly forgotten about the interview he still had to finish up with Emma. 

“Send her in, and show her to the interview room, please.” 

“Yes sir.” 

He sat back with a sigh, looking back down at the picture. 

Whoever John was supposed to be to him, he would find out.

Soulmate or not, anomaly or not, Xander Lee would find out who John _really_ was. 

\--- 

* * *

PEIP INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPTION FORM

INTERDIMENSIONAL ANOMALY 

CASE INTERVIEW #0001 PT. TWO

* * *

SUBJECT: Perkins, Emma Juliet

SUBJECT OCCUPATION:  Barista (Beanies-Coffee Shop), Cashier (Barnes and Noble- Lakeside Mall) 

DATE:  07/06/2018

TIME INITIATED:  14:00

TIME TERMINATED:  15:16

INTERVIEWER:  Lee, Xander James (Major)

INTERVIEWER ACCESS CODE:  AF7890

WITNESS:  Barnes, Rebecca “Becky” Lorraine (Agent) 

WITNESS ACCESS CODE:  VR5621

TECHNICAL WITNESS:  Schaeffer, June Patricia (Colonel)

TECHNICAL WITNESS ACCESS CODE:  TW4329

* * *

-INITIATE INTERVIEW-

* * *

LEE, XANDER J. (Major): Continuing Interdimensional Anomaly Case interview #0001. Subject, Emma Juliet Perkins and the Squirrel Street Car Crash of July First, 2018. Refer to file transcript #0001A for details and information regarding interview overseers. Interviewer, Major Xander James Lee. Acting as a witness we have Rebecca Lorraine Barnes. Acting as a Technical Witness, we have Colonel June Patricia Schaeffer. Refer to the header of this file for access codes. Hello, Miss Perki- I mean, Emma. It’s nice to see you shipshape again. 

PERKINS, EMMA J.: Um...Thanks.

LEE, X.(Maj.): It’s nice to know you weren’t severely injured or ill. You really gave us a scare there. 

PERKINS, E.: Um...yeah...I guess. 

LEE, X.: Picking up where we left off, Emma, I had just shown you the image of the anomalies...correct?

PERKINS, E.: Yes. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Since then, Emma, we have obtained new information regarding these anomalies that we would like to inform you of. According to our new sources…

PERKINS, E.: I assume you mean Lex and Hannah Foster?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Yes…according to Hannah Foster, two of the other anomalies have names. 

PERKINS, E.: Names? Like people's names?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Yes. The green one that she highlighted the one you see there *rustling of papers* is called Ethan. Does that name sound familiar?

PERKINS, E.: I think I bought weed from an Ethan in high school at some point...wait no, that was an Evan. Nope, nevermind. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): That's fine, but what about anyone named John?

PERKINS, E.: You need to be more specific than that. John’s a very common name. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Well, in that case, do you know anyone who looks like this?

[Rustling of papers]

PERKINS, E.: I mean...no...But a cop that my annoying coworker is sorta-dating has the same hair...is that supposed to be John? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): According to Hannah Foster, this is what he looks like. In spite of his image being blurred...Hannah said that my painting is supposed to be of him. 

PERKINS, E.: Your painting? You did that?

LEE, X.(Maj.): Yes. 

PERKINS, E.: Huh, I didn’t take you for an artsy type. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): No one ever does. 

PERKINS, E.: Sorry to hear that because this is quality. 

LEE, X. (Maj): Thank you. 

PERKINS, E.: Did Hannah happen to mention...did she mention if the one that pushed me out of the way had a name?

LEE, X. (Maj.): When I asked, she simply said, ‘Not time yet’.

PERKINS, E.: What the hell does that mean?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Wish I knew...but there is another thing, Emma, I have to ask you…

PERKINS, E.: Yeah?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Hannah mentioned that in some way, I was bonded to the anomaly named John...she identifies this picture as exactly him and tells me that I am remembering. She also said that her sister was bonded to the one named Ethan and that you were bonded to the one that saved you.

PERKINS, E.: She got this information from where?

LEE, X. (Maj.): I’ll tell you in a moment, but first I have to ask if you’ve had any oddly specific thoughts.

PERKINS, E.: Again, man, you need to be more specific. You could be talking about banana-boating down Niagara falls or kidnapping Peanuts the Pocket Squirrel. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): You’ve actually thought about those things?

PERKINS, E.: That’s unimportant, the fact is, you need to specify what kinds of thoughts. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Its...kinda like an idea, an inspiration, something involving someone you swear you’ve never seen in your life, but the details are all there.

PERKINS, E.: So it could be...like what…

LEE, X. (Maj.): I don’t know for sure what the parameters or guidelines are...but for me, it was this painting.

PERKINS, E.: And you’re taking this from a mystery source from an eleven-year-old? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, please just answer the question. 

[skip 00:01:20 of silence]

PERKINS, E.: When you say ideas...could...could dreams be a part of it? 

LEE, X, (Maj.): I suppose so...why? Have you been experiencing any strange dreams?

PERKINS, E.: *inaudible*

[skip 00:04:56 of silence]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma?

PERKINS, E.: Um...I don’t know how relevant this is...but since I came back from Guatemala...around January...there have been these...moments. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): And you came back to Hatchetfield after your sister, Jane, passed away around Christmas. Am I correct?

PERKINS, E.: I-er...yes. 

LEE, X.: Okay...sorry, please go on. What kind of moments?

PERKINS, E.: Um...I guess it started out with a compulsion to make black coffees. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): And this was strange because...?

PERKINS, E.: Listen...I’m not fond of my gig as a barista...I don’t just go around making coffee for the heck of it. You order it, I make it. You don’t, I won’t.

LEE, X. (Maj.): I see...please go on.

PERKINS, E.: But these times...it was always a medium black coffee. Every time. And as I was making them, it was almost like a force of habit. Like I was used to someone coming in and ordering a medium black coffee...and it was always at a very specific time. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): What time was that?

PERKINS, E.: Around 9:45 or 10:00. Eventually, it stopped being a rare occurrence, happening around three times in a span of two weeks. The last time it happened, it was when Hannah and Lex first came in on the thirty first. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): That’s what you meant when you said you’d gotten an order wrong?

PERKINS, E.: Yeah. I know it must seem stupid, but I swore someone had ordered it...but there was never a person there. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): You said it started out like this? How did it progress…

PERKINS, E.: Well, I was exhausted on the thirty-first and I had no classes that afternoon, so I decided to go home and take a nap. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): I take it you had a dream? 

PERKINS, E.: A really vivid dream...but yeah. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): If you don’t mind, would you describe this dream for me, please. 

PERKINS, E.: *scoffs* God, I feel like I’m talking to a shrink or something. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): I mean...I did take psychology in high school so…

PERKINS, E.: I don’t know why exactly I needed to know that...but uh...the dreams were...um.

LEE, X. (Maj.): What?

PERKINS, E.: This is gonna sound so ~~fucking~~ stupid. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, after the day I had nothing sounds stupid anymore.

PERKINS, E.: I feel like I should ask for the context behind that but the painting-bonded thing was weird enough...anyway…

LEE, X. (Maj.): The dreams were…

PERKINS, E.: ...Domestic.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Domestic?

PERKINS, E.: Yeah...that's the best thing I can think of to describe it. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): What happened?

PERKINS, E.: Well... I was living in a house with a cat...and just studying I guess...but then a guy I was apparently living with got home and made me dance with him because I was working too much. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Did you like it?

PERKINS, E.: See...that's the weirdest part...I actually did. And I’m like one of the least likely people to fall into all that cheesy romantic ~~bullshit~~...so it weirded me out. I woke up figuring I’d overheard Zoey talking about a romcom she saw with her kinda-cop-boyfriend. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): The guy you were with...you know, in the dream...what was he like? Were you comfortable around him?

PERKINS, E.: He’s tall, at least a foot taller than me. Light brown hair that’s really soft...like unnaturally soft...and usually combed to the side neatly...Built kinda like a beanpole if I’m being honest...but strangely muscular? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Is that it?

PERKINS, E.: No...he’s got...he’s got these ~~fucking~~ gorgeous blue eyes. They look way too big for his face, but they’re so clear...so...so…

LEE, X. (Maj.): So...what?

PERKINS, E.: So...gentle...and affectionate. I felt as though I’d known him forever, but I can’t even remember his name when I wake up.

LEE, X. (Maj.): You said when you wake up...so you’ve had more of these dreams, then?

PERKINS, E.: Yeah, and every time something gets physically worse. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): How so?

PERKINS, E.: I didn’t have another dream about him until I passed out during our last interview. There were multiple stages to that one...oddly specific stages.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Name a few. 

PERKINS, E.: I mean...There was one where he was with me to talk about my sister with my brother-in-law...who I haven’t seen or spoken to since her funeral...there was one where I was failing to teach him how to cook something...I think it was Paprikash...there was one where we were celebrating dating for over two years with adopting a cat...that was the last one I had before I woke up.

LEE, X.(Maj.): And they all had him?

PERKINS, E.: Every time.

LEE, X. (Maj.): And you wake up never remembering his name?

PERKINS, E.: Lee, the dreams started happening last Saturday, I think I would remember his name if ever it came to me...but its never there. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Hannah said...that you were searching for something you couldn’t remember. That you were drowning in it…

PERKINS, E.: What does that mean?

LEE, X.: I have a hunch... When was the last time you had a dream with him?

PERKINS, E.: Uh...last night actually. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): What happened?

PERKINS, E.: Um...we were having a movie night...our cat was there...I can remember the cat’s name. It was called Socks. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): That's a cute name. 

PERKINS, E.: He was a cute cat. Grey tabby with beautiful green eyes...very needy though. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): As is the way with most cats. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): Xander...I don’t want June to yell at us again...can we move on?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Sorry, Becky. Go on, Emma, you and the mystery dream guy were having a movie night…

PERKINS, E.: Not that this is important...but we made out at one point, which was very nice... but it ended weirder than most. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): How so?

PERKINS, E.: I mean...I’d had a headache before the dream...I don’t even remember falling asleep. But when I was making out with this guy I could feel the headache within the dream.

LEE, X. (Maj.): The headache was in your dream? I don't think that's abnormal.

PERKINS, E.: I guess...yeah? But it was much worse than in real life. I mean...I've had some bad migraines before...but this was something else…

BARNES, R. (Med.): When you passed out last time, your nose was bleeding a lot. I had to keep coming in and clean up your face while you were in the infirmary...were there any symptoms like that last night?

PERKINS, E.: For starters, I woke up on the floor...and I have no idea how I got there. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Anything else?

PERKINS, E.: Uh, yeah...my face was caked in a ~~fuckton~~ of blood. From my nose and I think also from… well...*inaudible*

LEE, X. (Maj.): I’m sorry, could you repeat that?

PERKINS, E.: Uh...yeah...from the looks of it...with the way the blood had dried on my face, it looked like blood had been coming from my eyes. It was like I'd just stepped out of a ~~fucking~~ horror movie or something.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Your eyes?

PERKINS, E.: Yeah...it was like I’d been crying blood or something. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): Why didn’t you call us? Or better yet, go see a doctor?

PERKINS, E.: Besides the headache, I felt fine...also, you guys cleared me when you saw my scans and such so I figured there was nothing really wrong. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): You were bleeding from your eyes and you thought you were fine!? You can’t even remember going to sleep!

PERKINS, E.: I mean...yeah...so?

BARNES, R. (Med.): So... The fact that you ended up on the floor somehow makes me think you blacked out again. 

PERKINS, E.: *scoffs* I made it through my shift at Beanies well enough, Becky. I think I’m okay. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): Xander, I think we should have her put under observation and take another look at her scans!

PERKINS, E.: Why? You said I was fine!

BARNES, R. (Med.): Bleeding from the eyes isn’t ‘fine’, Emma. What if it’s your life we’re talking about and not just some crazy dreams from a dimension outside of time and space?!

LEE, X. (Maj.): Barnes, calm down. I will take your recommendation under advisement. 

PERKINS, E.: What do you mean ‘dimension outside of time and space’?

[skip 00:01:39 of silence]

PERKINS, E.: Is anyone going to tell me what the ~~fuck~~ is going on?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma...have you ever heard of the Twilight Zone?

PERKINS, E.: You mean that cheesy ass TV show from the sixties, with Rod Sterling? It was all I watched during high school because my parents wouldn’t let me record or tape anything else.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Yes. Do you remember the opening monologue?

PERKINS, E.: Only that it started with a whole, ‘there is a fifth dimension’ type of ~~bullshit~~ spiel that I ate up during my teenage years. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Well...what if I told you that that ~~bullshit~~ spiel was actually based off of an existing concept?

PERKINS, E.: I wouldn’t believe you, but go on…

LEE, X. (Maj.): This conversation doesn’t leave this room, do you understand?

PERKINS, E.: Or what?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Or our organization can have you isolated within a mental asylum for delusions of grandeur...or more simply make you disappear. 

PERKINS, E.: ~~Fuck~~...okay then.

LEE, X. (Maj.): When our organization, PEIP, was founded in the late 1960s by Cynthia Laverne Houston...it was because several of her agents had encountered anomalies stemming from a dimension outside of all time and space. It was aptly named the Black and White by Barb Lavernor, the founding scientist at the newly developed PEIP, and was mostly sealed off as it’s properties were potentially too dangerous.

BARNES, R. (Med.): Major General Houston decided that it was too dangerous for anyone outside of the top trained scientists to experiment with... until the 1970s when Dr. Lavernor’s nephew had been struck by energy from the Black and White and was nearly killed. After that, all experimentation was forbidden and the project was shut down.

LEE, X. (Maj.): Because of that occurrence, all members of PEIP were made to take an oath to protect the world from any and all anomalies within the Black and White, should they pose a threat to this earth. 

PERKINS, E.: Wait...so your organization is meant to primarily protect the world from the ~~fucking~~ Twilight Zone?

LEE, X. (Maj.): I mean...it's called the Black and White, but yes. 

PERKINS, E.: So...you’ve known about this dimension since...the nineteen sixties? How?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Most of the information is speculation, but the main story is that Major General Houston, our founder, was able to communicate with a being from the Black and White called Webby. 

PERKINS, E.: ~~Shit~~...like Hannah’s Webby?

LEE, X.: I didn’t believe the rumors until Hannah mentioned her earlier today.

PERKINS, E.: What exactly is...Webby? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Most of the information in Major General Houston’s files are redacted, but Hannah described her almost as if she was a spider from the Black and White. 

PERKINS, E.: Are you sure that your Major General...whatever, wasn’t just a ~~fucking~~ nutjob?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Anyone would believe it until they actually knew what Major General Houston was like. And let me tell you, Emma, I only met the woman once before her death in 2003, and she was no lunatic. 

PERKINS, E.: But still… a spider from a dimension outside of time and space...isn’t that...a little out there?

LEE, X. (Maj.): I thought so too. In my twelve years with the organization I’d never seen any anomalies until that Saturday...and now this...With Hannah Foster’s testimony and these images...and with your dreams, my painting...it all seems like it fits.

PERKINS, E.: And yet, there are so many different factors that are missing!! You can’t just immediately assume they’re all right!

LEE, X. (Maj.): Then what would you suggest your dreams are then? Why would I see this picture so clearly in my mind? How would you have been saved from electrocution or death by crushing? 

PERKINS, E.: *inaudible*

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, logic, and science have ruled my life so far...but what the Foster girl is suggesting makes me more inclined to believe it. 

PERKINS, E.: So...when she said I was drowning in...whatever...what do you think she meant? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): She said you were trying to remember...I don’t know what it means, but I definitely think that these dreams are having some form of physical influence on you...and I definitely think these anomalies, your mystery dream-guy, and these blackouts have something to do with the Black and White. I even think you might be coming into contact with the energy from the Black and White itself. 

[skip 00:02:19 of silence]

PERKINS, E.: You mentioned that the founding scientist...a Doctor Lavender or something like that...her nephew was struck by energy from the Black and White and almost died...what happened to him?

LEE, X. (Maj.): A lot of the records are sealed off, but what’s there says he was never the same after that. It looked almost like he’d been struck by lightning...but he went a little insane. He was only 21 at the time, and was a prospective scientist at PEIP with a bright future...but now he’s…

PERKINS, E.: He’s still alive? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Yes, but he was never the same...he was still brilliant, yes...but he sealed himself off from the rest of the world...he rambled off about things that couldn’t possibly have existed...in 1988, he kept publishing papers about how the apocalypse was coming. I think he’s a professor now. 

PERKINS, E.: Oh...*long pause* wait…

LEE, X. (Maj.): What?

PERKINS, E.: What was his name?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Most records, like I said, are sealed off...but I know that Dr. Lavernor’s younger sister, Lena, married a man called Grover Hidgens.

PERKINS, E.: Holy ~~shit~~. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Are you okay?

PERKINS, E.: Was his name Henry Hidgens? 

[skip 00:01:54 of silence]

PERKINS, E.: Xander? Was it Henry Hidgens?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Like...Like I said, most of the records are sealed, but...that sounds about right.

PERKINS, E.: Holy ~~fuck~~ …

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, what’s wrong?

PERKINS, E.: That’s my kooky reclusive Biology professor. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): He still lives in Hatchetfield?

PERKINS, E.: Yeah...he’s like a whole doomsday survivalist..he’s been spending the past thirty years or something preparing for the apocalypse. 

[skip 00:04:18 of silence]

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, I think I have to ask that you remain here at the base while we figure out exactly what these dreams are doing to you. 

PERKINS, E.: No, you can’t keep me here! 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, I think these dreams are actually capable of causing you physical damage and if we can’t get them under control, it might be a lot worse than you think. 

PERKINS, E.: Why!? You don’t want me to end up like my ~~fucking~~ crazy professor?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, please, we need to figure out what’s happening, and we can’t do it without your help. 

PERKINS, E.: *Inaudible obscenities*

LEE, X. (Maj.): At the very least, can we take more scans?

PERKINS, E.: No. I don’t believe this. 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, don’t you want to know who the person you’re bonded to is? You’re subconsciously searching for memories of him and it is bringing you pain and actual physical harm. 

PERKINS, E.: We don’t know if it’ll escalate from there!

LEE, X. (Maj.): Emma, in just a few short days, you went from making an extra coffee to blacking out and bleeding from the eyes. Who knows what’s next? At the very least, let us monitor you overnight. If nothing happens, we’ll let you go and you can return home. 

PERKINS, E.: I’m not stupid, I know it’s not that simple. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): You’re right...it isn’t...but wouldn’t it be better if you at the very least had some peace of mind? 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Hannah said you were bonded to the anomaly that saved you in some way...she described it almost like a soul bond of sorts...but she also said you were drowning in your attempts to remember. Wouldn’t it give you peace if we could, at the very least, help you remember something about him? Help you understand why this is happening?

[skip 00:12:08 of silence]

PERKINS, E.: *inaudible*

LEE, X. (Maj.): What? 

PERKINS, E.: I’ll do it. But I am not gonna end up some ~~fucking~~ lab rat, do you understand me? I just want to make sense of these dreams and maybe not die along the way, okay?

LEE, X. (Maj.): Understood. 

BARNES, R. (Med.): We won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Emma. If we don’t have your consent, we won’t do it. 

PERKINS, E.:*inaudible muttering* Okay...okay... 

LEE, X. (Maj.): Alright, in that case, we’ll allow you to return to your apartment with an agent to collect what belongings you require...we will notify your employer of your absence as well as your teachers to see if they can send you the content you need so you can keep working on your degree in spare time. In addition, we can get you a residential unit on base...June, can you see about that? 

PERKINS, E.: How long do you think this is going to last?

LEE, X. (Maj.): As long as you allow. 

PERKINS, E.: *Unconvinced muttering*

LEE, X. (Maj.): On that note, I terminate this interview at 15:16. 

* * *

-INTERVIEW TERMINATED-

* * *

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp...things are happening...  
> Sure hope nothing bad happens to them. 
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos to let me know what you think, they really mean a lot to me!!  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	15. The Unknown Distance to the Great Beyond Stares Back at My Grieving Frame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul is willing to do what he must...  
> Because he loves Emma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo....okay so this one is really really really long (we're talking like 7k+), I am so sorry.  
> I promise you, this wasn't meant to be as long as it is...but it is.
> 
> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Goodnight, Travel Well" by the Killers
> 
> (also, the second half of this chapter overlaps with Emma's interview with Xander)

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ethan exclaimed loudly. 

John sighed and massaged his temples, “That's what Webby told me...exactly.” 

He had managed to summon Paul and Ethan back to the Black and White in order to relay to them the information that Webby had passed to him. The two had been very confused. Ethan, ever the verbal processor, was being rather loud, while Paul had taken to staring at his hands which were tapping together furiously. 

He wasn’t very fond of having to leave Emma behind to hear about what John had to say about Webby. Sure, Emma had been fine and studying when he left, after she'd been cleared by PEIP’s diagnostic scans and driven home by an agent, but what if she were to collapse again? Regardless, he was eager to go back and keep an eye on her. 

“So...when she said soul bonds, she meant like soulmates?” Ethan was saying.

“Kind of…” John said, “She described it as if the person’s soul is incomplete, so the missing fragments make a home in the soul of another, and vice versa for the other person…”

“And somehow I bonded to both Hannah and Lex?” Ethan said, “This shit reminds me of chemistry, and I flunked that twice.” 

“She said that Hannah was bonded sibling-like to both you and her sister, while you and Lex share a romantic soul bond,” John explained. 

“So... parts of my soul are in both Hannah and Lex’s souls...and parts of theirs are in mine?” 

“Yeah...that's right,” John said with a sigh, “In some ways, you complete one another’s souls.”

Ethan paused for a second, processing it, “That's weird” He thought again for a moment, “...and somehow the bonds haven’t broken despite me bein’...y’know…?”

“Dead?” John said bluntly, “No. Apparently being in the Black and White...or dead...is not enough to break the bonds, only stretching them?”

“And three of us soul-bonded people bein’ in here was too much for the fabric of reality to handle?” Ethan asked, his confusion evident, “And that's why Hannah can suddenly acknowledge us?” 

“I don’t think Hannah can see us...with the exception of Paul,” John sighed. Paul didn’t like being the exception, “I think Webby tells her we’re there and shows her...but only when she sees fit.”

“That's fucked up.” Ethan sighed, “So Hannah’s kinda at the whim of this bein’?” 

“Yes,” John nodded, “Although I think Hannah can see more than Webby shows her, so...not entirely at Webby’s beck and call.”

“What’s her game here?” Ethan wondered aloud, “What does she want with Hannah? In every single reset we’ve watched, Webby has chosen her to be her seer...or some shit like that...why?”

“Maybe it has to do with the fact that she’s more attentive than others...we already know she’s incredibly receptive to the Black and White…” John started, “It’s been that way in all of the past resets…it’s like a constant.”

“Like these bonds?” Ethan said, “I mean...what was there to show that we were meant for our people, John? I mean, we died in the second reset!!” 

“Its what Webby showed me,” John stated evenly, wishing his watch still worked so he could see how long they’d been going at this conversation, “And besides, Paul and Emma are a good example of that, seeing as how-” 

“What do you mean?” Paul said, speaking up for the first time since he’d been summoned back into the Black and White, “You said that when I first got here. That Emma and I found one another each time...you mean in every reset?”

John nodded and waved his hand, causing a scene to appear around them.

The first scene was of him and Emma, sitting in what looked like Hidgen’s bunker. His blazer was gone, and his sleeves had been dangling down his wrists awkwardly and he fidgeted with them. In the background, he could vaguely see Bill searching what looked like Hidgens’ bar for something. There were splatters of something blue and iridescent on his shirt, but they seemed to have dried and weren’t causing him much bother at the moment. It looked like she was telling him something and he was listening intently, a content smile on his face. He could vaguely hear the sound of her voice, but it was muffled, almost as if he was underwater and she was trying to tell him something. 

“This was the first reset we could see…” John said gravely, “This was when the being of Conformal Order, also known as Apatha, sent a meteor to Hatchetfield in hopes of establishing a dominant race of cosmic origin.” 

“Like...aliens?” He asked. 

“Kind of…” John said, “They were aliens but from the Black and White...if that makes sense…? Apatha herself is an alien though...so...yeah, Aliens.”

Paul scoffed, “And what did these aliens do, exactly?”

“They killed people and resurrected them as singing aliens under a musical hivemind race.”

Paul paused for a second, a _musical_ apocalypse? What kind of absurd reset was that?

“So…” he said quietly, “My personal hell?” 

John nodded and waved his hand again and the scene shifted. Suddenly, they were in the Houston living room. He turned and saw himself, in his red Christmas sweater- the soft cozy one that Emma liked to steal on cold nights (which he allowed often because she looked so goddamn beautiful and sexy in it). He was standing next to Emma again, looking snug in her green jacket and beanie, with an awkward look on her face. Judging from the expressions they both shared, he could tell that he’d most definitely said something to the wrong person. 

He turned again and saw that it was Tim, sitting awkwardly on the sofa in his black and white plaid pj’s, his red-brown hair mussed up and sticking at weird angles. Paul saw himself trying to remedy the situation ( _what had he said to Tim?)_ but clearly only made it worse. 

Ethan laughed at his expression and said, “This was the reset where Johnny and I both died.” 

Paul nodded, “Wiggly...right?” 

John and Ethan had told him about the Mall incident on Black Friday, where the Being of Chaos, known as Wiggly had swayed the majority of the population into a cult-like following, in which they tried to bring him into the world...which would have been successful, had it not been for an international conflict that would never turn into World War Three, because they’d all been blown to hell. 

The scene shifted again and he saw himself, Emma and...and Hannah, sitting in a neat row of chairs. Hannah sat in between the two of them, holding both their hands and smiling giddily. She looked older, maybe fourteen years old, and he and Emma looked slightly older themselves. They were all staring straight at a stage which was positioned behind him. As he turned, he saw that he was at a graduation ceremony of sorts...Hatchetfield High, he could tell. The muffled sound of the name ‘Alexandra Foster’ came from a man in a dark suit standing at a podium and all three of them stood up with joy on their faces that no one could ever wipe off. 

He looked at Ethan, “Is this the one where…”

“You and Emma met earlier on in this one…” John explained, “She still came back after Jane died, but got a job at CCRP as a receptionist when one Melissa Montgomery ended up going to prison for murder.” 

Paul didn’t want to question the implications of that statement and watched Lex walk up on the stage, happily accepting her diploma. He looked back at their little trio, where Hannah and Emma were bouncing up and down happily, clapping wildly, while he was taking pictures. 

“She ended up getting the job and _she_ asked you out a few weeks later because she knew you were awful at flirting and she found it endearing,” John said with a smile on his face, “You ended up getting married in 2020 and adopted Lex and Hannah that same year...only it was more of a mentor/friend position, which was something those girls definitely needed.”

Ethan smiled, “This one was where they seemed a lot happier. Lex was gonna go to college when the Being known as Hush came and resurrected old ghosts...made a manifestation of grief” He paused a sad look on his face, “That apocalypse didn’t last long because Emma died earlier on.”

Paul didn’t want to think about all these lifetimes they spent together which would end in the two of them inevitably dying...as he studied the pride and happiness on their faces. He saw himself envelop Emma and Hannah in a hug as the joy didn’t fade from their faces, even as Lex walked off the stage and they sat back down.

They were _married_ in this one. Married with two adopted sorta-daughters. The thought made his head spin. 

He’d known he’d wanted to marry Emma even after dating her for only a year...but he knew she wasn’t entirely comfortable with putting labels on relationships or even admitting to herself that she loved someone. The level of comfort they had with one another had been something they’d both worked for and even though they'd gone for nearly a year without putting a proper label on their relationship, he was fine with that. 

The scene shifted, and he found himself back in their house. Golden light filtered through their curtains, casting an amber glow on the room. He saw the two of them, laying on the rug on the floor, looking at one another as Socks played between them...Socks, and a...a baby? The two of them were laughing as the little one -probably about three months old, with big blue eyes like his and tufts of dark hair- reached out with small wrinkled fingers, from its place on it’s back, and tried to reach for the cat, who didn’t seem bothered. Emma laughed and pressed a kiss to the baby’s head, looking up at him with a teasing look. 

“Please stop, John.” Paul choked out, unable to take any more. He knew that the next image would have been of the one with the monstrous shadows that had devoured everything they’d come into contact with and he didn’t need that reminder. 

It was all too overwhelming. There was too much to remind him of what he would never have with Emma. He and Emma had never talked about getting married or having kids...they’d had enough knowledge of how much they loved one another and that was enough for them. But somehow...seeing all of these things laid out in front of him, made him wish he’d had more time with Emma...made him wish he’d been more careful and spent each second with her wisely. And it pained him, even more, to realize that even in these resets...he and Emma had that happiness taken away from them...all because some interdimensional beings found their reality to be a fun little game of chess. 

This new knowledge was too much. 

He and Emma were essentially soulmates. 

Mercifully, the domestic image faded away and he found himself in the Black and White. 

John looked sympathetic, “Sorry, son.”

“You could have just explained,” Paul said, careful not to let the bitterness seep into his tone, “I didn’t need a visual aid.”

“I’m sorry…” John said, guilt evident in his eyes. 

Paul began to tap his fists together furiously, “So...what did Webby want when she told you all this? Why should we heed anything she says?” 

John sighed, “Paul...son…”

“Please stop calling me son…” Paul muttered, “Just Paul is fine.”

“Of course,” John nodded, “Paul...How many times has Emma passed out?” 

He felt shocked at this question, “Just...just once to my knowledge…”

John nodded, “Webby said that the bond was stretched between you...not broken...but three soul bonds being stretched from one reality into the black and white was too much for the fabric of that reality to take...and stuff is starting to seep through.”

Paul was confused, “What kind of stuff?”

John shook his head, “I’m not entirely sure, but if the fabric is that weak, then eventually more stuff will be able to seep through...especially if the bond stretching is prolonged.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ethan asked, his eyes filled with confusion. 

“It means that the three of us being here was too much for the fabric of the reality containing Hatchetfield to handle, and if it lasts too long…” John sighed, “Webby essentially implied that turns in their apocalyptic monopoly won’t matter. All eldritch beings can stretch their influences and even themselves into the Hatchetfield reality. We’re talking about a complete and total domain of all eldritch beings. Resets will still happen, but they’ll be subjecting our loved ones to an eternity of hell.”

Ethan and Paul were silent. Paul began to fiddle with his fingers murmuring a few ‘okay’s under his breath. Ethan stared bluntly off into the distance.

“So…” Ethan said, his voice barely above a whisper, “How do we stop it?”

“That’s under the assumption that we can,” he whispered, his voice monotonous. 

John shifted slightly, his eyes searching the two of them, “According to Webby...we need to go back.” 

Paul felt his eyes widen. He was certain that if he looked at himself in a mirror, he would see his eyes bulging out of his head.

 _Go back?_ That was supposed to be impossible.

Besides, what would he have to go back to? 

He wouldn’t have his job. He wouldn’t have his best friend. He wouldn’t have his asshole colleague. He wouldn’t have a coworker to turn down softball tournament offers from. He wouldn’t have a coworker to offer some advice on marriage, even though he had no experience at all. He wouldn’t have his weird boss. He wouldn’t have his home. He wouldn’t have their cat. He wouldn’t have _Emma._

If they were able to go back, would they suddenly be like strangers to the people they cared about? To the people in the town as a whole? Would they have to learn to navigate an all-too-familiar yet foreign world which made it seem like they weren’t even themselves?

Ethan spoke first, “Johnny...is that possible?” 

John shook his head, “I don’t know… but I think if we can try and make contact with those we’re bonded to, maybe we can…” 

“They don’t know who we are to them…” Paul said suddenly, “What if they just decide they need to get medicated or need mental help? What if we inadvertently make their lives miserable?” 

“ It’s better than condemning them to an everlasting apocalypse! We’re bonded to very smart people,” John reasoned, ferocity in his gaze, “If there's anyone I know for certain that I have faith in, it’s Xander. If there’s anyone who can figure this out... it's him.” 

Paul was taken a little bit aback by that. John had never been completely open about his relationship with his husband, or the faith he had in him. Sure, it was easy to assume that John loved his husband...but John had never openly described how he felt about his marriage or his husband. 

“Paul,” John said firmly, “You managed to come into contact with Emma when you saved her life, has she demonstrated anything else that would indicate she knows who you are?” 

Paul shook his head. Besides the mistaken coffee order and the blackout during her interview with Xander, she’d not outwardly said anything that would indicate that she knew who he was. He knew that she knew it was him that saved her life if he’d heard correctly during that first interview, but she had no idea that he was actually _someone_. 

John nodded, “If things are seeping through, then she should be getting some semblance of what the past resets were like...Xander...he…” he trailed off his green eyes falling slightly sad. 

“What?” Paul asked, sympathetic towards John. He’d forgotten too often that Ethan and John had both been in the Black and White longer than he had, and they’d had to watch their loved ones exist without them for much longer. It was easy to forget that fact, seeing as how they carried on. He suddenly felt guilty and pathetic. 

John inhaled and exhaled sharply, “Xander managed to sketch me...the date in the corner of the drawing said that it was from around Christmas if I remember correctly...but it was me all the same.” 

Ethan looked shocked at this, “You’re sure it was you?” 

John nodded, “Xander’s good at sketching...but not _that_ good. It looked so much like me...it was almost frightening.” 

“You mean…” Ethan looked confused, “So...Lex should be getting some semblance of memories, right? And Hannah knows who I am...or at least what Webby tells her.” 

John nodded, “I think we all need to try to make contact with them first...at the very least try and let them know we’re here.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, “Do you think they’ll know?” 

“We have to hope.” John whispered, “So...I suggest we manifest to the locations of those we’re bonded to in the present...and try.”

Paul nodded. He wasn’t sure how this would play out, but he did know he wanted to get back to Emma. She was both very smart, and on PEIP’s radar, if anyone could figure this out it could be her...especially with PEIP’s help. 

After a while, Ethan and John faded...having manifested themselves to the locations of Lex and Xander. So...he closed his eyes ….

...and found himself back in the PEIP interview room. 

John was there too.

They eyed one another oddly before looking at their bonded people. 

Emma was in her Beanies uniform, sitting uncomfortably under the gazes of Becky and Xander. She appeared to be deep in thought as the silence of the room consumed her. 

He’d been expecting to manifest right back to where he’d left her studying the night before, but because the Black and White was outside of the concepts of time, things became a little difficult to ascertain when exactly you would come back into Hatchetfield’s present. 

Paul said nothing to John when Emma began to speak.

“When you say ideas…” she trailed off, staring into her lap, “Could...could dreams be a part of it?”

Xander seemed to consider this before nodding, “ I suppose so...why? Have you been experiencing any strange dreams?”

Paul remembered the way she’d tossed around ceaselessly when she’d passed out and spent that full-day sleeping in PEIP’s infirmary as Emma began to mutter under her breath. 

There was a long silence before Xander spoke again, “Emma?”

She looked almost embarrassed, “Um...I don’t know how relevant this is...but…” she paused, as if considering her words, “Since I came back from Guatemala...around January...there have been these...moments.”

Paul looked at John, whose face showed something reminiscent of...intrigue? He didn’t care as Xander began to talk again. 

“And you came back to Hatchetfield after your sister, Jane, passed away around Christmas,” Xander said, remaining both professional and sympathetic, “Am I correct?”

Emma looked uncomfortable, staring at her lap again as she muttered out a ‘yes’.

At a stern glance from Becky, Xander stumbled over his next few words, trying to keep the interview going, “Okay...sorry, please go on. What kind of moments?”

“Um…” Emma said, her dark eyes still searching for the right words, fixated on her fiddling hands in her lap, “I guess it started out with a compulsion to make black coffees.”

That gave Paul pause, even as Xander prompted her further and she elaborated on her job. 

“Listen...I’m not fond of my gig as a barista…” she said with a lack of humor, but not completely serious, “I don’t just go around making coffee for the heck of it. You order it, I make it. You don’t, I won’t.” 

Xander nodded, “I see...please go on.”

Emma suddenly looked confused, like she was trying to figure something out, “But these times...it was always a medium black coffee.” she chuckled humorlessly, “Every time. And as I was making them, it was almost like a force of habit. Like I was used to someone coming in and ordering a medium black coffee...and it was always at a very specific time.”

Paul’s heart could have stopped there. Could it be?

“What time was that?” Xander asked. 

“Around 9:45 or 10:00.” She answered factually, and Paul thought his heart might beat out of his chest- 9:45 had been the time he would always leave the office for a coffee break at Beanies. She went on, an almost wistful look in her eyes, “Eventually it stopped being a rare occurrence, happening around three times in a span of two weeks. The last time it happened, it was when Hannah and Lex first came in on the thirty-first.”

That was the day he was supposed to first meet her. What did this mean? 

“That’s what you meant when you said you’d gotten an order wrong?” Xander asked, his dark eyes filled with both intrigue and a sense of questioning. 

Emma laughed, “Yeah. I know it must seem stupid, but I swore someone had ordered it...but there was never a person there.”

Part of him wanted to scream _‘I was there’_ but he didn’t. His urge to listen intently to the conversation kept him going. 

“You said it started out like this?” Xander asked, “How did it progress?”

Emma let out a sigh, “Well, I was exhausted on the thirty-first and I had no classes that afternoon, so I decided to go home and take a nap.”

“I take it you had a dream?”

“A really vivid dream…” Emma said with another sigh, “But yeah…” 

Xander nodded again, listening carefully, “If you don’t mind,” he said with an even, professional tone, “...would you describe this dream for me, please?” 

She sighed and muttered something under her breath, “God, I feel like I’m talking to a shrink or something.”

He chuckled as Xander made some dry comment about taking psychology in high school. Her dryness, although something that had often pushed people away from her, was something that had made him fall in love with her even more. And even though they were separated by dimensions, he was still falling in love with her here. 

Emma chuckled awkwardly at Xander’s psychology remark “I don’t know why exactly I needed to know that...but uh...the dreams were...um.” Her face fell as she went back into thought.

“What?” Xander prompted, interest clear in his eyes.

Emma chuckled dryly, “This is gonna sound so fucking stupid.” 

Xander sighed, “Emma, after the day I had nothing sounds stupid anymore.” 

John laughed slightly at that, shaking his head like he’d heard that so many times before. 

Emma however looked slightly off-put, “ I feel like I should ask for the context behind that but the painting-bonded thing was weird enough...anyway…” she trailed off again. 

Xander began to prompt her again, “The dreams were…?”

She thought for a while before settling on a word, “Domestic.”

He looked confused, “Domestic?” he questioned. 

“Yeah…” she said with a slight nod, “That's the best thing I can think of to describe it.” 

Xander must’ve heard Paul’s thoughts because his next question was exactly what Paul wanted to know. 

“What happened?”

“Well... I was living in a house with a cat…” Emma started, and Paul felt his heart leap again, “And just studying I guess...but then a guy I was apparently living with got home and made me dance with him because I was working too much.”

Paul didn’t know whether he should leap for joy or sob. He remembered that day so well. It’d been a good day for him and he’d come home to find her working harder than ever. If he was honest, he was pretty sure that the paper she’d been working on wasn’t due for another few weeks. So, he’d switched the song she’d been listening to into an Elvis song and danced with her. He’d tried to dip her, but then tripped over his own feet and fell on top of her, both of them laughing like a bunch of idiot teenagers.

“Did you like it?” Xander asked suddenly, seemingly catching Emma off-guard. 

“See...that's the weirdest part…” She said, biting on her lower lip, “I actually did.”

Paul almost crumbled right there as she went on, “...And I’m like one of the least likely people to fall into all that cheesy romantic bullshit...so it weirded me out. I woke up figuring I’d overheard Zoey talking about a romcom she saw with her kinda-cop-boyfriend.”

“The guy you were with... in the dream...what was he like?” Xander asked, “Were you comfortable around him?”

Emma thought for a while before providing a description, “He’s tall, at least a foot taller than me. Light brown hair that’s really soft...like unnaturally soft…” he smiled at the memory of her running her hands through his hair, a sensation that calmed him, “And usually combed to the side neatly...Built kinda like a beanpole if I’m being honest...but strangely muscular?” 

“Is that it?” Xander asked, almost looking like a high school gossiper with the way he leaned over the table. 

“No…he’s got...” Emma said, a small smile on her face as she went on, this detail clearly of great importance to him, “He’s got these fucking gorgeous blue eyes. They look way too big for his face, but they’re so clear...so...so…”

“So...what?” Xander prompted. Paul moved closer, wanting more than anything to let her know he was there.

“So...gentle...and affectionate.” Emma said with a soft smile, but confused eyes, “I felt as though I’d known him forever, but I can’t even remember his name when I wake up.”

Paul’s heart sank slightly at that, but not for long. She’d seen memories of him in her dreams! She knew what he looked like! Better yet, she had a positive connotation with him.

Of course, she didn’t know that they were memories...but that was okay. It was better than her not knowing anything about him.

“You said when you wake up…” Xander said, leaning forward slightly, “So you’ve had more of these dreams, then?”

Emma nodded, “Yeah, and every time something gets physically worse.”

Paul’s heart sank again. _Physically worse?_ What did that mean?

“How so?” Xander asked, his interest never wavering.

“I didn’t have another dream about him until I passed out during our last interview.” Emma explained, confusion evident in her eyes, “There were multiple stages to that one...oddly specific stages.”

“Name a few.” 

“ I mean…” Emma said, trying very hard to remember, “There was one where he was with me to talk about my sister with my brother-in-law...who I haven’t seen or spoken to since her funeral...there was one where I was failing to teach him how to cook something...I think it was Paprikash...there was one where we were celebrating dating for over two years with adopting a cat...that was the last one I had before I woke up.”

Paul smiled slightly, all of those memories were precious to him. They stood as monuments to the fact that Emma was willing to let a boring twig of a human being like himself into her life. In spite of his happiness that she had seen those memories, the words ‘physically worse’ were fearfully clear in his mind.

“And they all had him?” Xander asked. 

“Every time.” Emma nodded. 

“And you wake up never remembering his name?”

“Lee, the dreams started happening last Saturday,” Emma scoffed, “I think I would remember his name if ever it came to me…” her face turned sad.

“But it's never there.” she finished, looking down and starting to chew on the nail of her thumb. 

Xander seemed to think for a moment before looking up, his tone careful, “Hannah said...that you were searching for something you couldn’t remember. That you were drowning in it…”

Emma looked even more confused, “What does that mean?”

“I have a hunch…” Xander sighed before going on, “When was the last time you had a dream with him?”

“Uh...last night actually,” she said hesitantly. Her eyes never left the edge of the table. 

“What happened?”

Emma thought for a moment, “Um...we were having a movie night…” she said, “Our cat was there...I can remember the cat’s name. It was called Socks.”

Paul laughed as a tear fell from his eyes. The name had been silly, they knew, but the kitten had an affinity for playing with loose socks left around the house, so they figured Socks seemed to be what he wanted to be called. 

Xander seemed to like the name and chuckled, “That's a cute name.” 

“It was a cute cat!” Emma said, smiling to herself, “A grey tabby with beautiful green eyes...very needy though.”

Xander nodded seriously, a smirk on his face, “As is the way with most cats.”

Becky piped up, nervously looking at him, “Xander...I don’t want June to yell at us again...can we move on?”

“Sorry, Becky.” he nodded respectfully at the meek woman, before turning back to Emma, “Go on Emma, you two were having a movie night…”

“Not that this is important...but we made out at one point, which was very nice…” Emma whispered, biting down on her lower lip. 

His face flushed at the memory. The memory must have been the night they watched _The Case of the Gilded Lily_...that night had been extremely fun, to say the least.

“But it ended weirder than most…” Emma said trailing off, catching Paul's attention once again. 

Xander looked slightly concerned, “How so?”

“I mean…” Emma said, groaning slightly, “I’d had a headache before the dream...I don’t even remember falling asleep. But when I was making out with this guy I could feel the headache within the dream.”

Paul suddenly wished he hadn’t left her alone while she was studying the night before. He could have waited to accept the summons and go back into the Black and White. 

Little did he know that the situation was a lot worse than a headache within the dream itself. 

Xander didn’t look very concerned, or like he didn’t understand, “The headache was in your dream?” he said, raising an eyebrow, “I don't think that's abnormal.”

Emma sighed, “I guess...yeah? But it was much worse than in real life. I mean...I've had some bad migraines before...but this was something else…”

“When you passed out last time, your nose was bleeding a lot.” Becky said, her eyes studying Emma intently, “I had to keep coming in and clean up your face while you were in the infirmary...were there any symptoms like that last night?”

Emma sighed again and began to play with her hair, “For starters, I woke up on the floor...and I have no idea how I got there.” 

“Anything else?” Xander asked, his eyebrows raised, actual concern blossoming in his eyes. 

Emma shifted uncomfortably, tugging on the loose strands of hair furiously, “Uh, yeah...my face was caked in a fuckton of blood. From my nose and I think also from… well…” her voice haded into incomprehensible muttering that Paul couldn’t understand.

Paul felt like he should’ve been scared.

“I’m sorry,” Xander said carefully, “Could you repeat that?”

Emma exhaled sharply, “Uh...yeah...from the looks of it...with the way the blood had dried on my face…” she fiddled with her fingers furiously, almost as if she was ashamed of the fact, “It looked like blood had been coming from my eyes. It was like I'd just stepped out of a fucking horror movie or something.”

Paul looked at John, horror lining every feature of his face. 

She’d been bleeding from the eyes? That was _never_ good, even in situations where people _weren’t_ entangled in some messed up Black and White board game. He didn’t know whether he should be sick or terrified...maybe both. 

If Xander was horrified, he wasn’t showing it, “Your eyes?”

“Yeah…” She nodded, looking up for only a second, trying to hide any apprehension she had, “It was like I’d been crying blood or something.  
John’s face was unreadable as he looked between Paul’s horrified face and Emma. His eyes shot back to Xander as if analyzing what he was doing. Meanwhile, Becky, who was the most visibly concerned, spoke up. 

“Why didn’t you call us?” She said concernedly, “Or better yet, go see a doctor?”

Emma let out a small sigh at the outburst, “Besides the headache, I felt fine...also, you guys cleared me when you saw my scans and such so I figured there was nothing really wrong.”

She shrugged, which only seemed to excite Becky more.

“You were bleeding from your eyes and you thought you were fine!?” She exclaimed, “ You can’t even remember going to sleep!”

Emma seemed to think about this for a moment before responding nonchalantly, “I mean...yeah...so?”

“ So…” Becky started, trying to keep herself calm and professional, “The fact that you ended up on the floor somehow makes me think you blacked out again.” 

Emma scoffed, “I made it through my shift at Beanies well enough, Becky.” She said, disbelief in her voice, “ I think I’m okay.”

Becky ignored this statement and turned to Xander, who was studying Emma intently, “Xander, I think we should have her put under observation and take another look at her scans!”

“Why?” Emma said, growing noticeably annoyed, “You said I was fine!”

Becky sighed, “Bleeding from the eyes isn’t ‘fine’, Emma.” she looked genuinely afraid for her, “What if it’s your life we’re talking about and not just some crazy dreams from a dimension outside of time and space?!”

“Barnes, calm down.” Xander spoke calmly, not taking his eyes off of Emma, “I will take your recommendation under advisement.”

Becky nodded slightly and seemed to calm down slightly. Emma however, did not. 

“What do you mean ‘dimension outside of time and space’?” She exclaimed slightly, her voice rising in pitch slightly. 

A moment of awkward silence passed as Becky’s face paled, realizing her mistake. It was then that Paul realized that Becky had been referring to the Black and White.

He turned to John, “PEIP knows about the Black and White?” 

John nodded, “Keep watching.”

Emma grew impatient with Xander and Becky, “Is anyone going to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Xander sighed and took off his sunglasses, “Emma…” he began hesitantly, “Have you ever heard of the Twilight Zone?”

Paul turned to John as Emma gave Xander her answer. 

“What does _the Twilight Zone_ have to do with this?” 

John sighed, “Some people who knew about the Black and White but not it’s actual implication wrote the show based off of the strange and unexplained. Because of this, _the Twilight Zone_ of the nineteen sixties was born.”

“ _The Twilight Zone_ was based on the Black and White?” 

“Essentially. But nobody understood the actual seriousness of the concept...instead they used it to teach some meaningful concepts.” John smiled slightly, “I loved that show when I was younger...my Father would tape it for us.”

They turned back to Xander, whose tone had taken on a much more serious tone. 

“This conversation doesn’t leave this room,” he said gravely, “Do you understand?”

Emma raised her eyebrows in vague defiance, “Or what?” 

“Or our organization can have you isolated within a mental asylum for delusions of grandeur...or more simply make you disappear.” Xander retaliated without a hint of humor in his voice. 

Emma seemed taken aback, “Fuck...okay then.”

“When our organization, PEIP, was founded in the late 1960s by Cynthia Laverne Houston…” Xander began, “It was because several of her agents had encountered anomalies stemming from a dimension outside of all time and space. It was aptly named the Black and White by Barb Lavernor, the founding scientist at the newly developed PEIP, and was mostly sealed off as it’s properties were potentially too dangerous.”

Becky chimed in, “Major General Houston decided that it was too dangerous for anyone outside of the top trained scientists to experiment with... until the 1970s when Dr. Lavernor’s nephew had been struck by energy from the Black and White and was nearly killed. After that, all experimentation was forbidden and the project was shut down.”

Xander went on, almost in an almost dramatic tone, “Because of that occurrence, all members of PEIP were made to take an oath to protect the world from any and all anomalies within the Black and White, should they pose a threat to this earth.” Emma looked incredulous.

“Wait,” She started, “So your organization is meant to primarily protect the world from the fucking Twilight Zone?”

Xander looked thoughtful for a moment, “I mean...it's called the Black and White, but yes.”

“So...you’ve known about this dimension since...the nineteen sixties?” Emma asked, looking slightly suspicious, “How?”

Xander smirked at her observation, “Most of the information is speculation, but the main story is that Major General Houston, our founder, was able to communicate with a being from the Black and White called Webby.”

Paul turned to John, “W-Webby? Like _Webby_ Webby?” 

“Webby.” John nodded. 

“Your founder could talk to the spider harbinger of doom?” 

“Yes.”

Emma seemed to flinch, her eyes widening, “Shit...like Hannah’s Webby?”

Xander nodded, “I didn’t believe the rumors until Hannah mentioned her earlier today.”

“What exactly is...Webby?” Emma asked. 

Xander sighed, “Most of the information in Major General Houston’s files are redacted,” he said, biting his lip for a second before looking back at Emma, “But Hannah described her almost as if she was a spider from the Black and White.” 

Emma laughed drily, “Are you sure that your Major General...whatever, wasn’t just a fucking nutjob?”

Xander chuckled, “Anyone would believe it until they actually knew what Major General Houston was like. And let me tell you, Emma, I only met the woman once before her death in 2003, and she was no lunatic.”

John nodded along with what Xander was saying as if it was a memory he knew well. 

Emma didn’t seem convinced, “But still… a spider from a dimension outside of time and space...isn’t that...a little out there?”

John chuckled again and turned to Paul, “If only they knew…” he murmured under his breath. Paul didn’t necessarily find the fact funny. 

“I thought so too,” Xander said with a nod, “In my twelve years with the organization, I’d never seen any anomalies until that Saturday...and now this...With Hannah Foster’s testimony and these images...and with your dreams, my painting...it all seems like it fits.”

“And yet, there are so many different factors that are missing!!” Emma exclaimed with exasperation, “You can’t just immediately assume they’re all right!”

“Then what would you suggest your dreams are then?” Xander asked calmly, “Why would I see this picture so clearly in my mind? How would you have been saved from electrocution or death by crushing?”

Emma said nothing, her eyes filled with a melancholy form of thoughtfulness. She still seemed skeptical, but still the prospects of understanding her dreams still very obviously weighed heavily on her mind. 

Xander seemed to understand, “Emma, logic, and science have ruled my life so far...but what the Foster girl is suggesting makes me more inclined to believe it.”

She scoffed quietly and looked up, “So...when she said I was drowning in...whatever...what do you think she meant?” 

“She said you were trying to remember...I don’t know what it means, but I definitely think that these dreams are having some form of physical influence on you…” he paused to look at her, “and I definitely think these anomalies, your mystery dream-guy, and these blackouts have something to do with the Black and White. I even think you might be coming into contact with the energy from the Black and White itself.”

The thought made Paul ill. He didn’t want Emma in the clutches of the Black and White. The vacuous force had made him miserable throughout the course of Hatchetfield’s present, and now it was having some influence on her. 

A small selfish part of him was happy she was remembering...but he was horrified that it was hurting her. The thought of something even remotely involving him _hurting_ her was worse than any life in the Black and White. 

As Emma began to ask Xander about the nephew of one of the scientists from PEIP, he turned to John again. 

“Do you know if these dreams will hurt her?” He asked, terrified of the answer. 

John shook his head, “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

Paul sighed, as Emma began to talk louder he looked back at John, “So...this is what Webby meant when she said some things were seeping through?”

“I guess,” the older man said with a shrug, “She’s trying so hard to remember-”

“And it’s causing actual harm…” Paul interrupted, cringing inwardly as he did, “People don’t just _bleed_ from their eyes and be okay, John.”

“I know, Paul,” John said calmly, “Which is why we’ve got to get back to them.”

“No, you can’t keep me here!” Emma shouted suddenly, snapping both men’s attention back to her. 

Xander held out a hand, trying to keep his voice calm “Emma, I think these dreams are actually capable of causing you physical damage and if we can’t get them under control, it might be a lot worse than you think.” 

Her head whipped to him, “Why!?” she demanded, “You don’t want me to end up like my fucking crazy professor?”

“Emma, please, we need to figure out what’s happening,” Xander tried to reason, “And we can’t do it without your help.” 

Emma muttered a few obscenities under her breath, refusing to look at either of them. 

“At the very least, can we take more scans?” Xander asked gently.

“No,” she said stubbornly, “I don’t believe this.”

Xander looked understanding but continued to lower his voice, “Emma, don’t you want to know who the person you’re bonded to is?” Paul thought that was a low blow, even if he agreed that Emma was in need of help- in spite of her own inability to recognize and accept it.

Xander went on, his eyes softening,“You’re subconsciously searching for memories of him and it is bringing you pain and actual physical harm.”

“We don’t know if it’ll escalate from there!” Emma tried to reason. 

“Emma, in just a few short days, you went from making an extra coffee to blacking out and bleeding from the eyes.” Xander said in a matter-of-fact voice, “Who knows what’s next? At the very least, let us monitor you overnight. If nothing happens, we’ll let you go and you can return home.”

“ I’m not stupid, I know it’s not that simple,” Emma whispered simply. 

Becky leaned in, offering a comforting hand that Emma didn’t acknowledge, “You’re right...it isn’t…” she said gently, “...but wouldn’t it be better if you at the very least had some peace of mind?”

Peace of mind. Wouldn’t that be nice for anyone? However impossible and far away the concept seemed. 

Xander continued to talk, “Hannah said you were bonded to the anomaly that saved you in some way...she described it almost like a soul bond of sorts...but she also said you were drowning in your attempts to remember. Wouldn’t it give you peace if we could, at the very least, help you remember something about him. Help you understand why this is happening?”

A long silence came to pass.

Paul looked at Emma. The love of his life, calculating, unsure of what move to make next. 

It was then that the knowledge John had given him and Ethan earlier hit him. 

_She was his soulmate._

Her soul completed his...and he completed hers. They were bound together by a tie that the fabric of reality and death couldn’t break. The thought was unsurprising to him...seeing as how he couldn’t imagine himself being happy with anyone else other than Emma.

God, he loved her so much. 

And it hurt to know that in some sick, twisted way of the universe, he was hurting her. He didn’t know how far the blackouts associated with his memory would go, or how much they would hurt her, but he wanted her pain to end. 

He wanted her to live a long, happy life that she was deserving of. He wanted her to live every moment as happily and easily as she could. But he knew that the ways of the universe weren’t like that. 

As he watched her think, he knew that all that mattered was that she was safe… and however unpredictable and little he trusted them, her best bet was with PEIP. 

He was so deep in thought on the matter that he nearly missed her answer.

It was Xander who snapped him out of his thoughts as he leaned forward to hear her better, “What?”

“I’ll do it.” she muttered begrudgingly, “But I am not gonna end up some fucking lab rat, do you understand me? I just want to make sense of these dreams and maybe not die along the way, okay?”

Xander nodded courteously, “Understood.”

Becky leaned forward again, “We won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Emma. If we don’t have your consent, we won’t do it.” Her tone was gentle and sweet. So quintessentially _Becky_. Still, Emma was uneasy. 

He tried to put a hand on her shoulder as Xander prattled on about the next step, talking about getting her set up on base. He could see that the words weren’t reaching her entirely as her eyes stared off into space. 

“How long do you think this is going to last?” she murmured to Xander, who gave her a small comforting smile. 

“As long as you allow,” he said, his voice gentle. 

Emma still wasn’t convinced. 

As Emma left the room, escorted by an agent, John began to follow Xander, gesturing for him to follow Emma. 

He followed her, watching the uncertainty in her step. 

“Em…” he whispered, “You can’t hear me but I’m right here.”

He promised himself right then and there that he would do _whatever_ it took to make sure Emma was okay. 

He would find a way to make her feel safe. 

To make her be alright. 

To make her life a happy one. 

To make her feel loved. 

No matter how long it took... 

No matter how hard the road would be... 

He _would_ get back home to her.

Because he loved her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PAUL MATTHEWS LOVES EMMA PERKINS. PERIOD.  
> Sure hope nothing bad happens to them though...
> 
> Once again, I am very sorry for the length, it was not meant to be *that* long, and then it was. 
> 
> Any comments or kudos you have would be greatly appreciated!! Whether you want to yell at me for the cryptic nature stuff or just confusing timelines, I would love to hear what you have to say!!  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	16. Look What Happens, Nightmare Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans have pride, lust, envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, and greed.  
> The universe has Webby, Apatha, Wiggly, Hush, Void, Drown, and...the seventh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was widely unplanned, so hopefully, this doesn't seem awful.
> 
> The chapter title comes from "Not Your Seed" by Jeff Blim from 'The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals' (also loosely from the Nightmare Time trailer because Starkid dropped that bomb on us and I'm so here for it)
> 
> (Hey look guys!! I wrote a short chapter!! This is kinda a bonus chapter for today, and I should have the actual chapter I planned out later tonight or tomorrow)

The darkness of the Black and White was often viewed as fearful. In spite of being known as the Black and White...the light was scarce...as was hope. 

They knew this from the moment they’d first been imprisoned. 

Webby knew herself to be wiser than most...she knew that watching and waiting was the best way to move forward. It might have seemed like a fool's errand to her people in her pursuits, but keeping her distance and whispering what she could to those who would listen was the best way she could acquire what she needed. 

The few souls that had been unlucky enough to be imprisoned in the Black and White probably didn’t know that there were some parts of the dimension where true oblivion bloomed. Places so dark, so quiet, they wouldn’t be able to hear or say anything to anyone, unless you were like her.

It was from places such as this where Webby’s kind had been born. 

Webby herself had been born in the Black. She’d merely opened her eyes and _been_. She had no idea if that had happened mere seconds ago...or eons. She’d awoken, and met her kind. Beings like her, who had a single purpose in mind. 

They weren’t siblings, no. They were just harbingers of chaos that had manifested from the energies of the Black and White. 

Their influence reached through the doors of reality after reality, sending chaos flying into their domains and razing the world clean. Realities fell and were destroyed at the feet of these beings. And they reveled in their victories. 

That was before they’d been turned on. 

That was before they’d all been forced into the Black and White from which they came.

That was before only one window had been opened to them and they were forced to take turns. A mere _semblance_ of what their paradise had been. A shell in which they’d have to watch the successes and failures, conjuring up what they could to make the world a hell for the people within it. 

Hatchetfield was now the only place their influence could reach now. And they were going to make the most of it. 

The fact that the town wouldn’t die, unlike so many of the realities they’d razed before, the town hadn’t merely flickered out of existence. The fact alone that the town itself didn’t appear in any other reality was something that had intrigued them. 

Sometimes she forgot that there were seven of them. They’d been condemned to be named the seven sins of the universe. 

While humanity had sins such as sloth, greed, wrath, pride, and such and such…attributes of personality which would highlight the ugliness of the human soul.

The universe had Webby, Wiggly, Hush, Drown, Void, Apatha...and…

She smirked to herself...she knew it wasn’t time for that one's name to be thought of yet. 

Names were very powerful things. 

As silly as their names may have seemed to humans, they would never know how awful their lives could truly be if they attempted to resist them.

She realized that she wasn’t alone and whirled around. 

She was met by a bright blue glow, she sighed in recognition of the beautiful being known as Apatha. The being of conformal order and responsible for the Apotheosis. 

They said nothing, merely studying one another. 

With blue skin that seemed to glow like the moon on the darkest of nights, Apatha could easily be regarded as a dangerous beauty. Her hair was translucent and blue, falling down her shoulders in a mesmerizing cascade which seemed to entrap so many things like tree sap. One half of her face was covered in an unreadable pattern of blue iridescent tattoos that made her face look slightly distorted. She wore a long blue dress that was studded with starlight and symbols, making it evident that she was the being of Conformal Order. Apatha was smart and cunning, anyone could tell by looking in her eyes, which were a solid dark blue that seemed to pierce anyone she looked at. 

Under her gaze, if Webby had been a mere mortal who experienced things like fear, she would have probably crumbled. 

“ _Apatha_.” She whispered in greeting, her voices remaining strong and echoing throughout the caverns of the Black and White. 

“Webby,” Apatha greeted, her eyes unflinching as her blue glow rose slightly, “I was wondering if you’d ever join our convergence again.”

Apatha’s voice was beautiful...one could see why people fell so easily to her siren song. It reminded people of a beautiful familiar song that they couldn’t quite place, getting so easily to the core of what they wanted in the deepest parts of their hearts. No matter how much her influence affected her victims physically, the heart was always the first to die off. 

Webby knew that her absence in times where she would meet the members of her kind had made them suspicious of her. Out of all the others, Apatha was probably the smartest when it came to being wary of her. 

Webby smiled, “ _I already know whose turn it is...you need not my ramblings_.”

The other members of their kind didn’t see the use of Webby’s influence. Talking directly to others, influencing their decisions, giving them hints, was viewed as pointless. They knew themselves to be triumphant regardless of what the puny lifeforms could try. 

Apatha snorted musically when another figure manifested into their domain. 

This was Hush.

They were tall and thin but reminded most of a shadow. They were completely shrouded in black robes, their grey eyes the only distinguishable feature, casting orbs of light into the darkness. 

They never spoke, as they had no need to. 

Their ability to resurrect old ghosts and manifest grief in a way where physical harm would tear a human being apart had made quick work of Hatchetfield. Webby personally didn’t think they’d done well enough to make humanity as a whole suffer. There were still scores of people left alive in Hatchetfield when the reset happened. They’d never actually found the source of the resets...they only knew that once the town was decimated and every life was exterminated, the world would reset. For some reason, Hush’s turn had been different. Their turn had only lasted less than a day in Hatchetfield before the reset happened, and so the cycle began.

Hush nodded at the two, their eyes unfocused as they moved closer to Webby and Apatha. 

“I believe Wiggly shall be here soon,” Apatha sang out her eyes remaining somewhat studious, calculating, still trained on Webby. 

As if on cue, a chorus of maniacal giggles rang out throughout the Black and White as the being of chaos manifested himself to stand between Apatha and Webby. 

To humans, each of the beings took another form.

For Apatha, it was her blue spores and slime.

For Webby, it was the form of a spider.

For Drown, it was a creature manifested from water.

For Hush, it had been a dead willow tree of all things.

For Void, it was literal shadows. 

Wiggly however had picked a monstrous being. Webby was partially convinced that he’d seen a similar concept on Earth, liked it, and made himself appear that way to human beings. His earth-capitalist scheme had mostly worked as he’d sent countless dolls in his image into the world, and then just sat back and watched as the world destroyed itself from the inside. 

When he was with his kind, however, the Being of Chaos took the form of a tall, thin man. He wore a green suit that appeared to be stained with blood. His eyes were still the bright yellow of his monster form, with the wide blue pupils and glint of glee. His face was cracked into a near-permanent human-like smile that put unease in the hearts of anyone who could feel. 

As he appeared, his giggles made Apatha seemingly roll her eyes. 

“Well, well, weeeeeellllllllll” He sang out. Webby would have cringed if she could. Unlike Apatha, Wiggly’s voice was very unpleasant to listen to, “If it isn’t my _bestest_ friendy-wends!” 

His voice was rather annoying once you were stuck with him for eternity in a dimension between all time and space. 

He smiled at Apatha, his eyes wild, “Apaaaaathaaaaaa…..you’re a sight for these soresy eye-sies.”

Apatha’s face remained blank as she greeted him, “Wiggly.” 

Wiggly turned around and his smile grew upon noticing Webby, “Webbsy-web…” He sang out, moving closer to her, she didn’t flinch, “I didn’t think you were ever coming baaaack.” 

He pouted, a small glint of his sharp teeth becoming visible between his lips briefly. 

“ _Where’s Void?”_ She asked, uncaring of his close proximity and cemented smile. 

“Oooh... _Voidsy_ ?” He asked playfully, his voice resembling what humans referred to as nails on a chalkboard, “Still IN recoveryyyyyyy….I lefty-wefty Drown and the _seventh_ with himmy-wim.”

So...Void was still recovering from his turn. Never before had it taken so long for one to regain their strength after a turn.

For most of them, it was baffling.

For Webby, it was unsurprising. 

“So, we’ll begin without him?” Apatha asked. 

Hush nodded. 

“Why, Apatha?!” Wiggly gasped, “Why do YOU think he’s _recovering_ for SOOOOOOO LLLLONG?!” 

Apatha shook her head, “If we had the answer, Wiggly, do you think we’d have to be here?”

“ _Three bonds,”_ Webby whispered, and they all turned to look at her. 

“Why, Webbsy-web, what on earth could that mean?” Wiggly asked, his childish tone never wavering. His eyes seemed to glow with giddiness. 

“There’s a third?” Apatha asked, her gaze unyielding.

Everyone knew that soul bonds were something that could open so much for them. A field of opportunity might have just been opened for them, and they all knew it. The fabric of reality might have just been weakened enough to free them. 

Webby nodded, “ _Your favorite.”_

Apatha straightened and looked off to the side.

When playing the game, the Beings liked to find their favorite player. Wiggly, for example, had found a woman so desperate for love and adoration that she ended up leading his people to their own destruction (much to his own unfathomable delight). 

Apatha’s had been a man named Paul. 

When her force had begun its work, she’d been met by fierce resistance on his part -something she’d never truly known. Because of this, Paul had captured her attention and she wanted _him_ to be the one to lead the destruction of the world. She’d enjoyed putting him through torment as she forced him to sing and dance in the absence of his own will, even leading him to rend his soul-bonded partner limb from limb as he watched from the prison of his mind. She’d reveled in the misery she’d caused...it was a shame that her turn had ended seconds after that had happened. 

“How?” she asked. 

“ _Portal.”_ Was all Webby offered in response. 

Apatha sighed, “Three bonds.” 

“ _Three bonds._ ” Webby nodded. 

“So…” Wiggly began to float, his back parallel to the nonexistent ground, “Wouldn’t it be sooo much funny-wun….if we could ESCAPE?!?” He erupted into a fit of giggles, finding the notion hilarious. 

“You mean slip through the fabric?” Apatha said, not confused, just trying to ensure she understood what Wiggly was implying.

Wiggly nodded vehemently, the idea bringing a new twinkle to his eye. 

Hush seemed to like that idea, their eyes widening greatly with delight. 

All of them seemed to immediately plan to ignore the turn they were on...this 

“Just thinky-wink,” Wiggly went on, unable to contain his delight, “We won't have to wait our turns...we can PLAYY all we want.”

“But the resets will still happen,” Apatha said, her voice monotonous, under control. 

“YES APATHA, BUT THE CHAOS!!” Wiggly said, his voice resounding, “FREEDOM, HATCHETFIELD, ENDLESS CYCLES OF LIFE AND DEATH THAT WE REIGN OVER...THAT SOUNDS FUNNY-WUN DOESN’T IT?”

Apatha seemed to consider it, her voice growing more musical as her excitement grew, “Think of it... _we could have all that we want...and more._ ” 

Hush began to nod, their eyes glowing a bright purple in excitement. 

“I can send my Uncle Wiley,” Wiggly went on, bubbling with happiness, “He can helpy-welp us escapey-wapey!!” 

“ _Then that world will be ours!!”_ Apatha sang out, music swelling in her tone, her bright blue glow growing intensely. 

They began to retreat back into the darkness. What few meetings they’d had were always that brief. Everyone would go their own way, making their own plans, uncaring for the plans of the others, all they could do was escape and the notion was exciting.

The idea of endless wrath and ravenous consumption was enough to let them each come up with their own plan. They didn’t have to rely on one another, not when the prize was Hatchetfield and their power unyielding. Even if they had to share the town, the idea of having full dominion over a reality that never died was too exciting. 

As Webby was left alone in the darkness, she thought about the warning she’d given John and the path she’d gently put her kind on. 

Everything was unfolding perfectly. 

The seventh’s power, the bonds restored, and their attempted escape was all she needed. 

And Webby smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo....things are happening. 
> 
> Again, this chapter was kinda unplanned so hopefully, it didn't suck.  
> Trying to write Wiggly gave my grammar checker a seizure which was fun.  
> I should have an actually planned chapter out later tonight or early tomorrow. 
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos if you would like, I would greatly appreciate it!  
> THANK YOU FOR READING!!


	17. Do You Know what's Worth Fighting For When it's Not Worth Dying For?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander visits an old friend.  
> Emma would rather be anywhere else.  
> Becky should have paid attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song "21 Guns" by Green Day.

Reset No. 6

Date: July 7th, 2018

Being Unknown 

Xander didn’t think this was a trip he’d be taking in a very long time. As he sat in the nondescript PEIP black vehicle, following the directions he remembered by heart, he felt slightly nervous. 

He hadn’t seen this particular individual in nearly ten years. 

People change a great deal in that kind of time. 

His stomach was doing cartwheels, probably because he hadn’t eaten much that day and the notion of seeing this person was nearly nauseating. 

He only hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.

The mission was simple, meet the target, convince them to come back into PEIP, and provide information into their very specific family bloodline. 

Maybe that would help him solve the mystery behind John, Ethan, and the thing that saved Emma. 

He thought back to Emma. 

He’d left her in Becky’s care for the day, tasking them with running diagnostic scans and planning for a sleep study. Ideally, the symptoms wouldn’t grow much worse, but the dreams would continue, providing more information about the person (under the assumption that he was a person) who’d saved Emma. However, he knew he didn’t live in an ideal world. 

He hoped the symptoms wouldn’t get worse. If her eyes had been bleeding and she’d taken to blacking out as Becky had predicted, part of him was worried that eventually she would blackout and not wake back up again.

He tried not to think about what could be, and instead thought about where she was now. 

Emma hadn’t seemed very happy to be there once he’d left. She’d barely been able to completely settle into her new residential quarters, which were right next door to Hannah and Lex. Part of him sympathized with the woman, she’d barely placed down her new roots in Hatchetfield with two semi-stable jobs that seemingly helped support her in her education. But now, she was thrown into a world that was bringing back a lot of trauma, both physical and mental. He could only hope that moving her to the base had been the right move. 

As he pulled up to the small, suburban, redbrick home, he felt nauseous. The plants and yard obviously hadn’t been maintained, but one could tell it had very recently been a very happy, well-kept home. The house’s shutters paint job hadn’t been complete, some of them a bright shade of cream while others were a faded red (what Xander presumed was the original color). One could tell the house had been in the middle of some form of renovations before being stopped very quickly. The garage door was partially open, possibly to keep the excruciating heat out, revealing a silver sedan and an array of woodworking tools that very obviously hadn’t been used in a while. Underneath one of the tables, he could make out a box wrapped in bright blue wrapping paper with an orange label that had the words “ _TO TIM, FROM EMMA”_ on it. That was strange to him, he was pretty sure that Tim’s birthday was in May. 

He approached the door, swallowing any and all nervous energy. There was no time for this slight fear. There was a mission. And he had to see it through. 

He knocked on the door firmly, but politely. He knew this wouldn’t be an easy trip. It probably wouldn’t be pleasant either. 

After a few moments, he knocked again.

This time, he heard some muffled sounds behind the door, possibly his target preparing the begrudgingly answer the door. 

The door opened and he was met by an all-too-familiar face. 

In spite of its familiarity, the face was worn down by the still-fresh wound of grief, the tiredness that came with Post-Traumatic stress, and just an overall sense of weight. Not weight as in weight gain...no, this was more _emotional_ weight. The look in his eyes was heavy, the way that he walked was heavy, the way he studied Xander up and down was heavy. 

Xander took in a breath, studying his old friend for a while before finally speaking. 

“Hello, Tom.”

\---

Tom Houston had never expected to see Xander Lee at his doorstep. 

When he opened the door, he had expected to have to tell some girl scout off or maybe inform his neighbor that the tree that went over the fence was well-kept and off of his property. 

Instead, he found Xander fucking Lee. 

The man hadn’t changed in the years since he’d last seen him. 

He still had the same hair that was clipped close to his scalp. The same inquisitive eyes that seemed to always be calculating. The same fucking sunglasses that looked like something out of a Keanu Reeves movie. 

It was still Xander Lee. 

“Hello, Tom,” The man said. Did he look...almost nervous?

He didn’t know what to say. 

What do you say to someone who’d been your brother-in-arms for the longest time after you’d gotten out of high school?

What do you say to someone who was so brilliant they could probably tell what you were thinking?

What do you say to someone who’d been your best man at your wedding?

He flinched and pushed the sickening thoughts of Jane away, fighting to find words. 

“Xander…” He breathed, “What-what’re you doing here?” 

The man seemed guilty, “May I come in?” 

Tom wasn’t so sure. Tim was home for the summer, but stayed mainly upstairs in the playroom, playing Super Smash Brothers or something that Tom wouldn’t likely understand. If Xander was here…

No. It had to be a mission.

Nobody just re-establishes contact after nearly ten years just for the heck of it. 

It was either pity or a mission. 

And Xander wasn’t the kind of man to start a pity party. 

Still, Tom wouldn’t deny that a tiny part of him was happy to see Xander. After what was probably nine years, he’d not forgotten everything he’d done for Xander and vice-versa. 

He nodded reluctantly, “Um...yeah come in.” 

His house was a wreck, having been not well-kept since Jane had died and Tom lacked the resolve to fix many things. He was too focused on trying to fix Tim’s pain, an endless enigma of feelings he never truly wanted to confront.

He led Xander to the living room and gestured to the couch, offering him a seat. 

“Do you want anything?” He asked him, “I’ve got a few root beers left, I know you like those.”

“No thank you, Tom...You still remember?” Xander asked, his eyebrows rising as he removed his glasses. 

“How could I forget?” Tom said, forcing a slight smile, “I’ll never live the root beer bet down.” 

Xander chuckled slightly, “It's good to see you, Tom.” he said as he sat down. 

Tom said nothing in response. He wished he could have said something similar like “ _Oh it’s good to see you too”_ or _“Xan the maaaan, how are you?”_ but nothing came to mind. Tom was too numb for pleasantries. 

The story most people knew was that he’d joined the military after high school. Even his high school sweetheart thought so. But it wasn’t true. 

After a few moments of awkward silence, Xander looked at him, “I’m sorry...about...”

“Thanks.” Tom cut him off gruffly. 

Jane’s death still didn’t seem real to him. It all seemed so distant, but he could remember it so clearly it was as if it had only happened minutes ago. He tried to not let the memory egg him, as memories of being in the Army and subsequently… The point was, he had been determined to not let Jane’s ghost be the one that haunted him the most...but it still was. 

“So, Xander,” Tom said finally, his voice rough and numb, “What can I do for you?”

Xander sighed slightly and looked down, “It’s…”

 _Here we go,_ Tom thought. 

“It’s about your family...and Jane's,” Xander said slightly, reestablishing eye contact with Tom and not looking away. 

Tom scoffed, “What about it? Tim’s the only family I’ve got right now, and Jane’s…” 

The only family Jane had left was her sister, and that was a lost cause enough as it was. He’d not bothered to even save her number as a contact in his phone. He still had it, of course, on an index card she’d given him a few weeks after she came back. The only thing keeping him from throwing it away or burning it was the fact that she was Jane’s sister and Tim’s aunt- even if she was undeserving of the title.

He couldn’t think of any other family members that Xander would want to talk about. His parents hadn’t been around while he was growing up and his aunt died fifteen years ago. He didn’t have any siblings or cousins, or _grandparents_ for that matter...so why would Xander... 

“I mean your aunt.”

Oh. Then there was _that_. 

The truth behind his ‘joining the military to pay for college’ was that he’d actually been recruited into one of the nation’s best-kept secrets. An organization called PEIP. 

His aunt Cynthia had been the one to found it.

She’d been the real parental influence in his upbringing, inspiring him to work harder, to be better. To be one of the best versions of himself, all so he could protect the world from the evils he’d never truly be able to understand. 

A lot of people would have looked at the teenage Tom Houston and immediately assumed that because he was a jock, he was an idiot. But it wasn’t true. He was actually really smart. Excellent at strategy, decision making, and comprehension, it was traits like these that had made him an excellent quarterback in high school and subsequently, an even better operative. 

In spite of his aunt being long dead by the time he’d graduated, he’d made sure to work his way up PEIP’s ranks.

He’d done his best to make his aunt proud and had earned the rank of Corporal by the time he was 22. He made Captain at 24 and met Xander along the way. He was ready to accept PEIP as his future, following in the footsteps of his aunt.

That was until Iraq. 

After that mission, he’d decided to step down and away, focusing on building the fragments of his life back in Hatchetfield. It was there that he met Jane after learning that his childhood sweetheart had moved on. It was there that they were married and Tim came along. He’d stayed in touch with only Xander, a good friend and sorta-mentor for him during his time at PEIP. But shortly after Jane and Him had gotten married, their conversations got shorter and their friendship fell back into the recesses of acquaintance. 

He pushed those thoughts away and he looked back up at Xander, who was gauging his reactions.

“Cynthia?” 

Xander nodded, “Tom...do you remember her ‘source’ that she used to talk about before she died? I mean, she died before you were at PEIP, but she’d mention it often.”

Tom scoffed at the memory as signs of his childhood with his hardass aunt began to appear in his mind.

“ _Tommy, you fucking skipped out on class today?” Her tone was scary as she stared up at him. In spite of his being almost a full foot taller than her, she was the scariest person he’d ever known._

_“Ugh...How’d you know, Aunt Cynthia?” He asked. He’d been so careful to go unnoticed. One excuse and falsified hall pass were all it had taken for him to skip._

_“I’ve got a source, kiddo.” She said bluntly._

There was always something with Aunt Cynthia. She seemed to know everything about everyone at just the right moment. At times it was scary, at times, it was fucking incredible. 

“ _So...I hear that Gerald kid’s been giving you shit again, huh?” She said as she leaned against his desk_

_He groaned in response and bury his face in his hands_

_“I know he cheats on his math homework and has a fear of spiders.” She said carefully, her eyes not leaving his._

_“Huh?” He said, his head popping up, “How do you know?”_

_“I’ve got a source, kiddo.”_

She never told him the nature of her ‘source’, only that it was top-secret. He’d known she worked for the government and was one of their most feared and notorious major generals. He just hadn’t known that she was working for a part of the government that no one knew existed.   
He’d graduated in 2003, the year she’d died, and was recruited to join PEIP. That was when all of the truth came out. And he’d been happy to join and finally understand the enigma that was his only aunt. 

“ I mean,” He said with a humorless chuckle, “It was her excuse for always knowing what I was up to when I wasn’t supposed to be doing something…”

Xander nodded, his face still serious, “Tom…” he started, “Did you ever get to look at her files?” 

Tom shook his head, “That was above my pay grade, Xander.”

Xander seemed to understand this, “Did she ever mention a spider…named Webby?”

“A spider named Webby?” Tom laughed, “Xander are you serious?” 

This was weird, Tom knew. But somewhere in the depths of his memory, he could recall some things. 

_“Aunt Cynthia!” a five-year-old version of himself cried out in the night._

_She came in, still awake and in a neatly-pressed business suit, she took a seat on the bed, her face in one of its rare phases of softness, “Tommy, are you okay?”_

_“Th-there’s a m-monster in my closet!” He cried._

_“Are you sure?” she asked, her eyebrow raised._

_He nodded vehemently, big crocodile tears pouring from her eyes._

_“I’ll go check,” she said and went to open the closet, “Hmm, no monsters in here, buddy.”_

_“It was there! It was there!” He called out, night terrors clearly getting the best of him._

_Her gaze softened, “Hold on a second, buddy.” she whispered and she left the room quickly._

_She returned, “Well, since the monster isn’t there right now, I think you need a watchdog.” she said calmly._

_She held up a small stuffed spider._

_“Auntie, that’s not a doggy.”_

_She smiled with a chuckle, “Nope, this is something better. This is Webby.”_

_“Webby?” he asked, his voice cracking on the name._

_“Yeah,” she said with a serious nod, “Webby’s always got my back. She tells me when things are going to happen and lets me know. She helps me be brave.”_

_“So, Webby can tell you if there are any monsters coming for me?” He asked, his eyes growing wide._

_She nodded, “Yep. And I’ll protect you as I’ve always done.”_

_She placed the spider in his hands and he hugged it tightly._

_“Thank you, Auntie,” he whispered, his eyes falling shut as the onslaught of sleep came for him._

“I mean…” Tom said, “What does a stuffed spider have to do with any of this?” 

Xander looked confused, “A stuffed spider?” 

“Yeah,” Tom said, “It was a way she would help me sleep when I used to have night terrors as a kid. She said it would let her know if monsters were coming out of my closet and shit.”

The fact that Tom probably had never known a life without nightmares was very sad to him. Xander didn’t seem to care. 

“Tom…” he started, “A few days ago, the sensors picked up an anomaly.” 

Tom scoffed, “Jesus, Xander, you know I don’t care about those things.” 

“Tom...you used to!” 

“Well, now I don’t!” He snapped, “And you shouldn’t either. I mean, I know the organization is supporting your mom, but we’ve all chased enough geese to last a lifetime!” 

“Is that Tom or Iraq talking?” Xander said, his eyes calm. 

“Tom.” He confirmed, “And I’ll be goddamned if I get back in the thick of it. With what Tim’s been going through, I don’t want him to lose another parent.”

“What about an aunt?” Xander asked. 

“What aunt?” Tom responded cooly, “Emma hadn’t made any effort to be in his life before Ja…” he paused, not wanting to say it.

Even saying her name was too much. 

“She wasn’t there, and she can’t expect a place here, either.” He decided on, “Besides, what does Emma have to do with...did she send-”

“Emma didn’t send me, Tom.” Xander interrupted, “Emma would probably kill me if she knew I was here.”

“So you do know her.” 

“I only know her because her life might be at stake,” Xander said calmly, “I can explain more to you at the base.”

“Is this you inviting me back?” 

“Is this you wanting to come back?”

“Fuck no.” Tom said calmly, “I left that behind. I’m a teacher now.”

Xander sighed, “Tom...I understand that grief is-” 

“No. You don’t.” Tom snapped, “You don’t. How could you? You’ve never been married! You-” 

Xander’s face fell and Tom sighed. He looked down, suddenly ashamed of himself. 

He knew Xander would have loved to be married at some point. He knew Xander himself was something of a romantic. But love had never found him in the ways that love had found him, both with Becky and with Jane. Xander was a great guy, any man would have been lucky to have someone as brilliant and sweet as Xander, but nobody cared enough to notice him. 

So, Xander buried himself in his work, and judging from the absence of a ring on his left hand and the growth of the circles under his eyes, it had stayed that way all throughout these past ten years. 

“Xander, I’m sorry.” Tom sighed, trying to find an outlet to change the subject “What does Emma have to do with this?”

“Why would you care?” Xander said, he paused before looking back up, “Tim’s birthday is in May, right?” 

Tom nodded, “Why-” 

“Your garage door is open,” Xander explained, “It wasn’t hard to see the unopened present underneath the worktable with Tim’s name and hers on the label.” 

“How could you-”

“Good eyesight. Also, the label was really big.” Xander explained. 

Tom sighed. Emma had sent a birthday present for Tim when his birthday had rolled around. There’d been a letter on it for him, but he hadn’t bothered to read it. Again, the only thing keeping him from throwing the gift out altogether was the fact that Emma was Jane’s sister. 

“You know, at this point,” Xander said, “I’ve probably talked to her more than you have.” 

Tom figured that was probably true. He’d only told her over the phone that she was dead, and then yelled at her after Jane’s funeral.

“You wouldn’t know this,” Xander went on, “But she’s working two jobs and trying to get herself back on her feet despite not wanting to be back...and I think I know why.”

Tom said nothing.

“Tim.” Xander said, “If it wasn’t for him, Emma would have probably left Hatchetfield mere _days_ after Jane’s funeral. She’s trying so hard to prove to you that she wants to be stable, and _wants_ to make up for what she missed...to be what everyone wanted her to be back then...so badly.”

Tom sighed again and stared at the ground. 

“Maybe you need to consider that she’s grieving just as much as you are.”

Tom fought against the shame that was building in his chest. He’d only had two incomplete conversations with Emma Perkins. He’d spent both of them enveloped in his own grief. 

He thought back to her face as he’d yelled at her at Jane’s funeral. Staunch, biting down on her bottom lip as the tears blossomed. He honestly couldn’t remember what exactly he’d said to her. He was so deep in his grief, the filter had been lost. He had hurled so much at her, and half expected her to retort in the same way that the fiery biting fifteen-year-old from high school he remembered would, but she hadn’t. She’d taken every word he’d said...and now she was actually trying to do something about it?

Jane had always been the one to call her and ask her to come home for all the big events. Whether it was their wedding, Tim’s baby shower, or even Tim’s birth, Jane was always the one to excitedly call Emma and ask her to come home, and every time, she got off the phone with a disheartened expression. 

Jane had told him that their parents had been ‘unkind’ to Emma growing up. She never went into the details, but Jane would always say that Hatchetfield was never a place where Emma could be happy. Coming back seemed to mean making herself miserable. To him, he thought it was cowardice.

It suddenly occurred to him...did he hate Emma? 

He didn’t think so. 

Maybe he was just angry with her.

Angry on Jane’s behalf. Angry for his son. Angry that Jane never got to have a sister with her in the ways siblings should. Angry that Tim couldn’t get to know his aunt with his mom still around. 

Maybe he was just angry in general. 

“I can’t really tell you much more if you’re not willing to pay her any mind or come back” Xander sighed, “So...I guess I’ll be going.”

Xander stood and walked to the door, “Tom...the offer still stands...We wouldn’t turn you down if you decided to come back.” 

“Will she be alright?” Tom asked as Xander pulled the door open. 

Xander shook his head, “I don’t know.”

He began to exit when Tom spoke again, “Xander.” 

Xander turned around, eyes wide with something that might have been hope, “Hmm?” 

“I…” Tom trailed off. What was he going to say? I’m sorry we lost touch? I’m sorry for whatever happened to Emma? I’m sorry for leaving? I’m sorry Iraq went so wrong? 

“Thank you.” Is what he settled for. 

Xander nodded and shut the door. 

He sat back on the couch with a sigh. What the hell was that all about? 

The thing with the stuffed spider seemed so unrelated to his relationship with his sister-in-law. His sister-in-law, whose life might be in danger somehow. 

He tried to bitterly think about all the ways that Emma had hurt Jane before she died, by not coming back to celebrate the multiple stages of life with them, but somehow the bitterness didn’t come. 

Was Xander right when he said that Emma was trying? He wouldn’t know, he’d mostly stashed and/or deleted any attempts Emma had at trying to make contact with him. 

To tell the truth, Tom didn’t even _know_ his sister in law. 

“Dad?” a small voice cut him out of his thoughts, “Is it lunchtime?”

He looked up and saw Tim, in a superman T-shirt and grass-stained jeans. Every time he looked at Tim, he was reminded of the woman he loved. The woman he’d lost at his own fault. 

“Uh- yeah...buddy,” He said, snapping to attention, to tell anyone the truth, he hadn’t really thought of lunch yet “I was just thinking we could um… go to McDonald's today?” 

Tim smiled slightly, “Nice!” 

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in a booth at McDonald's, having walked there. Tim was humming to himself opposite him. 

Tom tried to stop thinking about what Xander said. Going back to PEIP seemed like such a foreign idea. He’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t let Tim grow up without a Dad, and PEIPs missions, whether they were anomaly driven or actually combat driven, were always dangerous in some way. Then there was the matter of Emma...

“Hey,” Tim piped up, “Dad?” 

“Yeah, Tim?” 

“Have you heard from Aunt Emma at all?”

This question stunned Tom, “What?” 

“Have you heard from Aunt Emma?” 

“Um…” well, he’d heard _about_ Emma, and if you weren’t counting the stashed birthday gift in the garage…, “Uh- no, bud, sorry.”

“Oh,” Tim looked slightly disappointed and looked down, “I hope she isn’t lonely.”

“What do you mean, Tim?” 

“Mom,” Tim noticed Tom flinch slightly and rephrased, “She...she used to say that Auntie Emma never had any real friends here...that she could get lonely because no one wanted her.”

Tom hummed slightly, wishing he was anywhere but here, having this conversation. 

“Dad,” Tim started, his tone questioning and genuine, “We used to want her with us all the time...before...all of this…”

He paused for a moment before meeting Tom’s gaze “Do we _still_ want her?” 

Tom wished he had an answer. 

\---

Emma was sure she didn’t want to be here. 

What the fuck was she doing? Agreeing to be the subject for some convoluted anomaly analysis? 

She was in her second diagnostic test for the day- an MRI this time, with Becky overseeing it. There were some imaging technicians there with her, but Becky was the one doing the primary overseeing. 

So there Emma was, wearing a hospital gown, inside a tube while the extremely loud sound of the machine doing its job pounded in her ears. 

She tried not to think about where she was. She hated feeling exposed like she was some sort of caged animal for people of the medical profession to study. 

They’d given her something to press if she started to panic and wanted out but she hadn’t taken to gripping it. She had to remain completely still, so she would.

She tried to think of Guatemala, all those calming beautiful scenes amidst the inherent uncertainty and danger of the main cities. She’d loved hiking up those mountains, glimpsing the beautiful foliage, smiling at the bold colors of the sky...those had been moments where her restless heart had been at peace. Still, she wasn’t completely calmed. 

How long had they said this was going to take? An hour? 

How long had she been in here? It felt like five hours, but given how impatient she was, it was probably something like ten minutes. 

The guy-whose-name-she-couldn’t-remember’s eyes popped into her head again. That soothing blue remained a constant source of calm in her mind. It shouldn’t have been, she knew, but it was. She tried to search her brain for other calming details of the dreams she’d had, like the softness of the kitten’s fur, or the warmth of the blanket the two of them had been snuggled under while watching that black and white movie...but they always went back to him. 

She felt stupid...almost like she was having a high school crush on someone, who as far as she knew, didn’t even exist. The only lead that they might have had was the fact that the anomaly that had saved her _might_ have looked like him…and even that was uncertain. 

She tried to think of something else, but the consistent pounding of the machine was making her head spin. 

She realized too late that she was getting a headache again. 

In mere seconds, what had been a dull throb at the front of her skull, had begun to feel like someone was stabbing needles or nails over and over again around her temples. She tried to feel around for the remote to tell them that something was wrong, but her hands wouldn’t move. Fear overtook her as she felt the blood begin to fall from her nose, the pain growing blinding and stifling. She tried to open her mouth to call for someone, but all that came out was a stifled squeak as her eyelids became lead, and she fell into darkness once more. 

_She inhaled sharply as she sat up in bed. Her eyes were filled with tears after having a severe nightmare. She was breathing rapidly and her head was pounding something awful. She tried to get a hold on her breathing as the strangled sobs and wails fought their way out of her throat._

_A soft hand laid on her back she froze._

_“Em?” a groggy voice whispered, “You okay?”_

_“I woke you up…” She murmured, hating how pathetic her voice sounded._

_“Doesn’t matter,” He replied, “Are you okay?”_

_She didn’t know how to answer. Would he understand?_

_“Hey…” he whispered, and he shifted himself closer to her to look at her._

_In the darkness, she could see the outline of his face and the glint of his eyes through the moonlight that made its way between the curtains. She looked up at them with big eyes as her bottom lip trembled, in spite of her desperately trying to get a hold on them. She didn’t want him to see her like this...but something about his arms, open to her were so...strange...offering the comfort she never felt deserving of._

_In a spur of a moment, she pulled herself forward and into his arms, burying her face in his chest. The sobs came crashing down on her in wave after wave, quieted into his chest._

_He held her closer, rubbing soothing circles into the back, “Do you wanna talk about it?”_

_She shook her head, the wails making their way out of her mouth._

_“S-sorry,” she cried, “I’m so fu-fuck-fucking path-pathetic.”_

_He leaned back, and for a moment she thought with a sickening thud in her chest that he was going to leave. The thought of him leaving broke her. Made her feel like her heart was going to shatter into a million pieces. Unlike so many people in her life, she_ wanted _him to stay. And she would stay for him, so long as he would have her._

_Instead, he gently cupped her face and wiped away her tears with his thumbs, looking at her seriously. Gently, but firmly, he whispered, “No. You’re not.”_

_He took her in his arms again, kissing her forehead and rubbing her back again._

_She didn’t respond and only cried harder, the softness of his hands against her back now running gently through her hair. Shame built up in her chest._

_What had she done to deserve him?_

_She was a pathetic, vile, horrible person who didn’t deserve this kind of love. The dreams of Jane and her parents were her punishment, she was sure. She deserved those. She deserved every scathing word, every vision of blood and bone, and every moment of fear and panic that haunted her dreams. She deserved to feel like the most horrible..._

_“Em…” he whispered, cutting through her thoughts, “It’s okay...I get them all the time.”_

_She looked up at him, her eyes wide. In the darkness, she could make out a sad sort of understanding on his face. They sat there in silence for a little_

_“You’re not alone, Em.” He murmured, kissing her hair, “I’m here.”_

_She hiccuped and held him closer, “S-sorry.”_

_“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He whispered._

_He lay back against the headboard with her still in his arms, holding her close and safe to him._

_Her head was pounding and her eyes were burning, so she squeezed them shut and tried to relish these moments with him. Taking in the softness of his bare chest, the gentleness of his hands as they caressed up and down her back._

_He pressed a kiss to her head, “You wanna try going back to sleep?”_

_She shook her head, “I just wanna lay here for a sec…” she said, her voice still shaky, even as the sobs receded._

_He smiled sadly, “That's okay.”_

_Her crying became quiet as she laid her head against his collarbone, the tears falling onto his skin. She tried to wipe them away but they kept being steadily replenished._

_“Shh, Em,” He whispered, his tone calming, “It's okay, I’m here, I’ve got you...You can let it out.”_

_The tears fell harder and she was choking on the sobs as she buried herself into his neck, crying harder than she had before. His hand never stilled in its comfort, and his kindness never wavered as he whispered to her over and over…_

_“It’s okay, I’m here.”_

\---

Becky should have known. 

She should have paid attention. 

She was watching Emma’s scan go forward, not watching Emma’s form as she remained still inside the machine. 

She watched the monitors, getting a full view of some of the scans of Emma’s body and head. The ones they were taking now were focused mainly on her spine. 

“Hey Barnes,” a familiar voice said from behind her, she turned to see Lex and Hannah, probably back from the physical evaluations they’d been scheduled for that morning. 

Hannah was looking off into the room, blankly. 

“Hey, girls,” Becky greeted warmly, tearing her eyes away from the monitor, “How’re you doing?” 

“About as good as one can be when one’s been doing a physical since 7:00 am.” Lex said, “We were just about to go down to the cafeteria, but we wanted to stop by and say hey.” 

“Well, hey!” Becky said with a laugh. 

She looked down at Hannah who was staring at the windows to the MRI room. 

“Hannah, are you alright?” She asked. 

“Too much,” she murmured quietly, “Drowning.” 

“Too much for you?” she asked carefully and quietly, “Do you want to find somewhere to calm down...or be alone?” 

She knew from what little Lex had talked about her, that Hannah was prone to sensory overloads. That, and the fact that she probably had a magical space spider from the Black and White whispering cryptic nothings in her ear, probably made it even harder to make it through some days. If the infirmary was too much for the girl she could find a place for the two to be alone. 

Hannah shook her head, “Not me.”

“Hey, Barnes,” Patrick, one of the Radiology technicians said from the controls, “We’ve finished here, so you can go ahead and take her out.”

Becky nodded in acknowledgment, “Sorry girls, I’ve got to take care of this...but hey, my lunch break is in about fifteen minutes, so maybe I can meet you in the cafeteria.” 

Lex smiled slightly, “That would be great, Becky.”

Hannah however was looking at the wall adjacent to them.

“Too much.” she whispered, “Too much.” 

Lex leaned down, “What’s too much, Banana?” 

Hannah seemed to think for a moment, “Webby says it’s too much. Emma’s drowning.”

Becky’s blood ran cold. In a blink of an eye, she pivoted and ran into the MRI room, where Emma remained still inside of the machine. She quickly pressed on the button to move Emma out of there. 

It was moving too slow, and Becky prayed that Webby’s omen was wrong. 

As the platform holding Emma moved out completely, Becky saw that Emma’s head was turned away from her, but she was still breathing. That was a relief. 

Then Emma twitched. And then again. And then again. 

Becky ran around to the other side of the platform, and what she saw shook her to her core. 

Emma’s nose was bleeding again, her blood a shade much darker than before. Her eyes were open but rolled back as she continued to twitch ceaselessly, dark blood seeping from them. She made a noise that resembled a strangled sob and blood fell from her eyes quicker. 

Had her nurse’s instincts not kicked in right there, she might have screamed.

Instead, she sprang into action. 

In a flurry of movement, she called for assistance, and before she knew it they were loading Emma onto a stretcher and moving her back into the sickbay. Her vitals were normal, minus a slightly elevated heart rate, but Becky’s mind wasn’t calmed. 

Lex and Hannah had disappeared from the room, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was in too deep with what was happening. Guilt grew in her chest. She should have been there, she should have heeded the warnings. 

She should have paid attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...thats a whole lotta fun. 
> 
> Me, looking at Tom and Xander: Congratulations, you're now former best friends from PEIP.
> 
> Also...  
> Me, writing this fic: *remembers that Tom's surname is Houston*  
> Me: *Remembers that Cynthia from SaF's last name is Houston*  
> Me: Oh yeah, it's all comin' together.
> 
> I know a couple of other fic writers have HC'd Tom and Cynthia being related, so the idea wasn't necessarily mine originally, but I didn't steal it from another fic... if that makes any sense. I really hope that my version of their being related doesn't cause any offense anywhere content-wise because I would hate to accidentally plagiarise or cause harm (If I do so, please notify me in the comments so I can remedy this issue).
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos if so desired, they really mean a lot!!  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	18. When the Violence Causes Silence Who Are We Mistaken?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul continues to be confused and fearful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is kinda going to be a two-parter because there's a lot that's supposed to happen (so the actual chapter I had planned is also gonna be with the next one). It gets kinda messy, so I tried to organize it as best I could in a way that would make sense. Sorry if it gets kinda confusing!!
> 
> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Zombie" by The Cranberries
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Blood, Seizure mentions, Hospitals 
> 
> ALSO, INCOMING TCB REFERENCES

Reset No. 6

Date: July 7th, 2018

Being Unknown

Professor Henry Hidgens knew something was coming. 

He always knew. 

It wasn’t his choice. 

If he had the chance to go back he would have indulged his theatrical tendencies rather than follow in his Aunt Barb's footsteps as his mother had suggested. 

He’d been so blinded, so _childishly_ excited by the unknown that he’d forgotten the infinite dangers that had been pulling them towards oblivion. 

At first, he’d thought it had been a gift...but oftentimes the prettiest of gifts can conceal the ugliest of curses. 

He stared at the stack of poorly written papers before him. He much rather would have been writing music rather than grading them...but he had an _actual_ job. A job he didn’t have a license for...but that was an unnecessary technicality. Besides, he enjoyed being a professor. 

He knew something was off when he’d gotten the notification that Emma would continue to do her work in the class but would not be appearing in lectures and/or class time. The notification had supposedly come from Emma herself, but the way it was worded was _too_ professional for Emma. 

He knew the second someone entered the room, that it was an agent of PEIP. 

“Okay, thanks Tom,” The man was saying, on a phone call of some kind that Henry could hear through his partially open door, “Yes, I’ve got to go, but I will let June know you’re coming...yeah...yes and Tom? Thank you for reconsidering...I know this isn’t easy. Okay, goodbye.”

A little while passed before Henry was addressed. 

“Dr. Henry Hidgens?” a professional voice asked him. 

He didn’t look up, “Yes?” 

“Sir, I’m with the United States Military and I need you to come with me, please.” 

“Cut the shit, son,” He said calmly, “I know who you’re with.” 

He looked up to see an evidently intelligent young man. He looked to be about thirty-five, with dark skin and a round face. His hair was clipped close to his head, and he wore a pair of uniquely shaped sunglasses. 

The man nodded, “My name is Doctor Xander Lee.” 

Henry raised an eyebrow, “Doctor of _what_ exactly?” 

“Theoretical physics.” the man -Xander- answered, “I’m here to ask you a few questions.” 

“So…” Henry began with a sigh, “A theoretical physicist meets with an elderly biologist, both with ties to...you know what.” 

The man nodded, “We can have this discussion back at base.”

Henry shook his head, “Nonsense. If you want to ask me questions, you do it here and now.”

The man seemed wary of this, “Sir, this information is...sensitive. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh I understand,” Henry nodded, “It's because of that, that here is better.” 

He stood and gestured towards the seat sitting opposite his desk, “Take a seat.” 

Xander took a seat, his eyes searching Henry as he went to close the blinds and unplugged a few electrical devices, such as his computer and desk-phone. 

Finally, he sat down in front of Xander, “What is it that PEIP needs from me?” 

“Dr. Hidgens, I am here to discuss an incident that occurred on October 10th of 1976, during your brief tenure with PEIP.” 

_Oh_. 

_This wasn’t about government conspiracy, capitalist greed, or blue aliens. Was it?_

_This was different._

This was going to be interesting indeed. 

His heart began to pound in his chest as the lightning flashed into his mind again. The memories of the cold and then the numbness. The memories of the voices he heard. The cacophonous crescendos that echoed in his mind, especially as he slept. The man began to speak again, snapping him free from his thoughts. 

“Now, I’ve got to debrief another subject in less than an hour, so I would much rather appreciate it if you accompanied me-.”

“Yes...it would be better if we did this at your base.” He said, his heart racing, “Let me grab a few things. 

\---

Paul hadn’t known what to think when Becky had managed to pull Emma out of the machine. 

He’d been in the room with her when she’d gone in and had taken to watching as the machine did its work. He didn’t realize until Becky was back in the room with urgency in her pace that something had gone wrong.

He’d seen her face the moment she’d been taken out of the tube, and he felt like vomiting. Her face was almost completely covered in dark blood. He’d screamed, he was pretty sure, not that it mattered- no one could hear him anyway. He’d wanted to hold her hand as Becky managed to get her out of the room and into a proper room where they could analyze the issue, but all he could do was phase through. 

At first, it seemed like her vitals were normal, but after the brutal span of what was probably forty-five minutes, they’d determined she’d had a minor myoclonic seizure. 

He didn’t believe it.

Emma was young and in relatively good health.

She wasn’t supposed to get a seizure at such a young age. 

When the doctors left, and all that was left was Becky, who sat beside her wiping the still-flowing blood from her face, his stomach filled with dread. Her blood was dark...unnaturally dark. Occasionally she would mumble something under her breath but her eyes would never open, and he was disheartened. Over the course of watching over her for what was five hours according to the clock on her room wall, one condemnatory question burned in his mind. 

_Had he done this to her?_

The question wasn’t unfamiliar to him. He’d been mulling it over from the moment he and John had found out about her blackouts only the day before- that seemed like an eternity ago. 

If these blackouts, and now a seizure, had been related to the Black and White...with memories of _him_ coming along with it, what was there to imply that he _wasn’t_ the cause? Was being in close proximity to her significant other from another life causing her to pass out? 

It had been a _week_ since the dreams had supposedly started and she’d already had a seizure of sorts...it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Guilt filled his chest, but tears never fell. All he did was stand beside her, his hand phasing through hers as she slept. The doctor’s said that she was on track to wake up soon...but somehow the prediction hadn’t given him hope. 

He felt useless and helpless as he watched her rest. The twitching had stopped, and the blood flow was growing slower and less frequent, but the contorted look of pain on her face was undeniable. 

His heart clenched at the sight. She was strong and healthy. She wasn’t supposed to be rendered weak by whatever was seeping through. 

As badly as he wanted her to remember him, _this_ was not fair. 

Emma didn’t deserve to suffer like this.

  
What would happen next? Would she wake up feeling fine again and walk it all off? He didn’t know.

If it was up to him, he would stitch together the fabric of the reality altogether to make sure she was out of harm's way. As painful a decision it would be, he would do it in a heartbeat to make her suffering end. 

He didn’t know whether it was hours or minutes before Xander (trailed by John) walked in. 

“I just came from debriefing the targets, they’re on base...” The man asked Becky, his eyes wide. It looked as though he’d been running, “What happened? She was fine...”

He trailed off as his eyes caught sight of the bloodstained towel in Becky’s hands. John’s eyes widened and he made eye contact with Paul. 

As John approached, Paul merely muttered, “She’s had a minor myoclonic seizure...they said.” 

John clearly didn’t know what to say, and Paul hoped he didn’t say anything. 

“Xander, a seizure...as minor as it might be...is indicative that all these ‘memories’...” Becky hesitated on the word, “They could lead to something a lot worse.” 

Paul didn’t want to think about how bad this could become, but Xander egged her on. 

“How bad?” He asked. 

“Judging from how quickly she went to seizures...we could be on track for a full-on coma if it continues to overwhelm her…” Becky looked guilty, “I don’t know if this could be fatal...but we don’t know exactly _what_ is causing it.”

“I don’t know, Becky…” Xander said, his eyes not leaving Emma. Suddenly a spark filled his eyes, “But I have an idea...I need you to ask Wilkins to run the scans through Rodney’s anomaly software… I want to see if it picks up on anything. It should take like...twenty minutes since there are only...two of her brain and two of her spine, right?”

Becky nodded and he went on, “When it’s done, please tell them to send the uploads to my phone.” 

She handed him the towel, as she headed for the door “The bleeding’s stopped mostly, but if it continues to happen, could you just wipe it up? Oh- and if anything happens, yell for Dr. Kirk or another nurse.” 

Becky left quickly, leaving Xander looking awkwardly at Emma. His eyes were filled with pity, it seemed.

John looked at Paul, offering him a small smile. 

Paul felt exhausted and sad, “It happened while she was in the scan.”

He nodded, “I’m sorry, Paul.” 

“Is there any way we can stop it?” Paul asked desperately, hating the way his voice cracked, “I don’t care if she doesn’t have any memories of me anymore...but this...this is too much.” 

John shook his head, “I don’t know...I only know that the chances of stopping the fabric from stretching is returning to them-” 

“Well,” Paul laughed humorlessly, the bitterness seeping into his voice, “It would be great if _Webby_ had been more clear on how exactly we could fuckin’ do that!” 

John nodded, not offering much else. Paul sighed. 

“Sorry…” He murmured, looking down, “This just…” 

“You don’t need to explain, Paul.” John said, “I couldn’t imagine what I would do if it was…” 

Paul understood his meaning and decided against saying anything in response. 

They watched as Xander lifted his phone to his ear, “Yeah, June,” He said, keeping his tone hushed, “Could you send the targets to Infirmary room A45? Thanks.”

He moved to sit down where Becky had sat previously when a small groan caused all three of them to jump. 

Paul snapped to attention, moving closer, trying to reach for her hand, being met with empty air once again. 

After a few moments of shifting, her eyes opened and immediately squinted shut. 

It sounded like she whispers something along the lines of “what the fuck” but it comes out mainly as scratchy, hoarse mumbling. Xander seemed to cringe at this, but Paul couldn’t imagine a better thing to hear. He let out a small wet chuckle 

“Emma?” Xander whispered, moving closer.

When she opened her eyes again, they were squinted and she seemed to falter for a moment before shooting up from her spot, her head phasing through Pauls quickly, shocking him as he’d briefly forgotten that he was essentially air to her. Her eyes darted around as she took in her surroundings until they finally fell onto Xander. 

Her expression was confused but almost...disappointed. 

She leaned back against the pillows, “ _Shit…”_ she mumbled, her voice groggy and croaky, “It happened again?” 

Xander nodded, “Emma, it got worse.” 

“Yeah,” she choked out with an accompanying cough, “Fuckin’ tell me about it.”

Paul laughed at this and wiped his eyes. How long had he been crying? 

Xander moved closer, “Emma what do you remember?” 

She chuckled with no humor, “I remember being in the machine and then it suddenly felt like a bunch of redwoods were bursting through my skull….” she closed her eyes again and raised a hand to her forehead, “Do you know how insane that feels?” 

“Does your head still hurt?” Xander asked. 

She nodded slightly, “Yeah...when the nurse gets back I can ask for painkillers or something…” 

“Awake!” Someone cheered from outside, and he looked up to see Hannah, trailed by her sister walking in.

“Miss Foster,” Xander greeted Hannah before looking up at Lex, “And the older Miss Foster.”

“Just Lex is fine,” Lex said calmly, nodding in acknowledgment at Emma, who groggily shrugged. 

Behind the two of them, Ethan came trailing in, he looked slightly confused, or as if he’d experienced a weird phase of deja vu. He was probably wondering what they were all doing in a hospital room again. 

“What happened?” Ethan asked John and Paul, gesturing to Emma, who was still very groggy and looked almost as if she wasn’t processing what was going on. 

Paul sighed as John took the lead on explaining, “She’s been experiencing blackouts with flashes of Paul’s memory in her dreams...and it’s having a negative effect on her.” 

Ethan’s eyes brightened, “So...she’s remembering Paul...that’s good right?”

“Not when she has a minor seizure to go along with it,” John said, trying to remain sensitive to Paul. 

“Colonel Schaeffer told us to meet you here, and to expect two more targets…” Lex was saying, “Whatever that means.” 

Hannah smiled sagely, “Webby says they’re here.” 

At that moment everyone turned to the little girl. 

She looked up at Emma, “I can see yours,” she told her, “Not John and Ethan...but Webby says they’re here.” 

“John’s here?” Xander said, his eyes searching the room. 

Hannah nodded sagely, “Always.” 

Lex looked slightly confused, “Does Webby know _who_ they are, Banana?” 

Hannah’s face scrunched up as she thought, “Webby says Ethan knew us...loved us. Tries to help us. Can’t. But he tries.”

Ethan smiled sadly, “That’s right, Banana,” he whispered. 

Hannah looked down and walked over to the side of the room, phasing directly through John, “John is here.” she said calmly. 

Finally, she looked up at Paul, who was still standing at Emma’s side and smiled slightly, “Yours is here too.” 

“You’re quite right, child.” A new, but certainly not unfamiliar voice chimed in. 

Paul looked up to see Emma’s favorite professor, Henry Hidgens stroll into the room. 

He was clad in his usual black turtleneck sweater with a grey blazer instead of his usual tweed- an outfit that could not have been functional for this time of year. His silver hair was combed neatly to the side and his eyes had their usual hawk-like glint...almost like a predator studying its prey. Had it not been for his dramatic pose in the doorway of the room, Paul would have felt intimidated. Instead, the man looked slightly ridiculous.

“Do they already have me on pain meds, Xander?” Emma muttered, “Because I could swear Professor Hidgens is standing right there.” 

“He is.” Xander said, “I called Doctor Hidgens in to help us with our little mishap.” 

“Oh…” she said, “Hi Professor.” 

Hidgens smiled slightly, “Hello, Emma.” 

“What’re you doing here?” 

“I’m sure Major Lee told you of my involvement with this organization,” Hidgens said cryptically, “My work with...you-know-what?” 

“Oh...yeah, it explains a lot of things.” She said, raising an eyebrow, “Your aunt helped found this place.” 

Hidgens nodded before noticing Hannah, tilting his head to the side. He made no move towards her as he studied her. She stared back, not quite looking at his eyes.

“You’re a seer...” He told her his eyes filled with confusion and fascination, “For the Whispers.”

Hannah nodded and tilted her head at him as if studying him. 

There was a very long silence before Emma spoke up again. 

“Xander, you’re sure I’m not hallucinating?” Emma asked. 

“Pretty sure.” 

“Because I’m pretty sure that’s my brother-in-law behind him.” 

“Yep,” Xander sighed and turned around, “He’s there too.” 

Emma snapped up, sitting up straight, muttering some curses under her breath. Paul tried to help her sit up but was rewarded with more phasing as he did. As he looked up, he was met by the flannel-clad figure of Tom Houston. 

How long had he been standing there? 

To be honest, in all the allure and drama of Hidgens’ entrance, he hadn’t even noticed the burlier man standing there.

What was Tom doing here? 

At this point in time, Tom barely acknowledged Emma’s existence. The sight of the man made Paul feel a little angry on Emma’s behalf. 

Emma spoke before he could form a coherent thought. 

“T-Tom…” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her face had gone pale and she seemed to shake slightly. 

Paul was reminded of the time she’d told him about the first interaction she’d had with Tom Houston face-to-face. Apparently, he’d yelled at her at Jane’s funeral, too deep in his own grief to care about the scene he was making. Emma had taken every word he’d given her and she’d decided to use it to motivate her to become better.

Back before the reset had happened (his heart still ached at the thought of the past no one else knew of) they’d become close with Tom and Tim, moving past the awkward acknowledgment phase and actually becoming something of a little family.

But that was in the past reset. Back when the year had been 2021 and he and Emma had been together for a while. This was 2018 and Tom had only interacted with Emma face-to-face once at this point. 

“Mr. Houston?” Ethan whispered. 

Paul looked at him, “You know him?” 

Ethan nodded slightly, “Yeah...he used to teach Lex and me shop.” 

Paul was about to say something else when Tom finally said something. 

Tom nodded at her, his own discomfort matching her own, “Hey, Emma.” 

“Y-You…” Emma stammered on her words, her eyes going wide, “Y-you look...w-well.” 

That was very obviously not the words Emma had been looking for. Paul knew her better than that. 

Judging from the look in her eyes, Paul figured she’d been thinking something along the lines of ‘What are you doing here?’ or ‘You came to see me?’. Either way, Emma was clearly shocked way too much for someone who’d only woken up not twenty minutes ago. 

“I’d say you looked well...as well,” Tom said, his discomfort hindering his words, “But…” he gestured to the setting and Emma chuckled humorlessly. Her eyes filled with a kind of anxiety Paul couldn’t quite understand. 

Tom scanned the room, tearing his gaze away from Emma when his eyes fell on Lex. 

“Lex?” 

Lex offered him a half-hearted grin, “Hey, Mr. Houston.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“Yeah,” Emma piped up, “I’m a little confused as well…” 

Paul was extremely confused and looked to John for some clarification. The man merely smiled slightly and gestured for him and Ethan to listen. 

Xander smiled, “Lex, Hannah, Emma, I’m sure you all know Tom Houston… as we’ve already established.”

At Emma’s haphazard nod he went on, “Well...I’m sure what you don’t know is that you’re looking at former Captain Thomas D. Houston of PEIP’s Operations department.”

Paul’s eyes widened, “He’s in PEIP?” He asked John, “Since when?” 

John smiled, “Tom was recruited out of high school. He met me and Xander in basic training...or at least Xander, and we hit it off. He rose through the ranks until he made Captain.” 

Emma was at a loss for words, “Wait...what?” 

Tom nodded, “It’s true, Emma.”

“I thought you were in the army!” 

“I mean...this is technically the army so…” Tom said with a slight lackadaisical shrug, “And before you ask, _yes,_ Jane knew.” 

Emma looked down, her eyes still clearly trying to calculate what was going on. Paul couldn’t blame her. Between all of the new people in the room, he couldn’t keep track of the way things were interconnected. Speaking of, the room was getting a little crowded. 

“Jesus,” He sighed, looking at John, “How many people do I know that are involved with PEIP in some way?”

John shrugged, “A lot of us are in Hatchetfield...Emma’s boss is Schaeffer’s cousin.” 

Paul didn’t want to wrap his head around it. Everything was growing so confusing. He sat down on Emma’s bed, careful to not phase through her legs. 

He took a mental headcount of the people in the room and their involvement, including the other Black and White ghosts. If he didn’t, this was all going to be too confusing. 

  1. Xander- Theoretical Physicist for PEIP. Bonded to John romantically (though he doesn’t know it).
  2. Hannah- Hears Webby (cryptic spider) and see him. Bonded to Ethan and Lex in a sibling-like way. 
  3. Lex- Has an ability she didn’t know about yet to reach into the Black and White. Bonded to Ethan romantically and to Hannah as a sibling (though whether or not she actually believes Ethan’s there is up to speculation). 
  4. Tom- Emma’s brother-in-law and Jane’s husband. Apparently, he was a former PEIP captain?!
  5. Hidgens- Emma’s professor...Emma mentioned he was involved in some way...was this a part of that interview??
  6. Emma- Paul’s favorite person in the room. Experiencing blackouts (and now seizures) as a result of the onslaught of memory from a past life. Bonded romantically to Paul.
  7. John- PEIP general in past resets, bonded romantically to Xander. 
  8. Ethan- Dyslexic murdered teenager, too enthusiastic about his own death. Bonded romantically to Lex and sibling-like to Hannah. 
  9. Himself. 



Somehow listing the people in the room didn’t make the situation any less stressful. In spite of the room growing crowded, he felt like there was so much going on and he couldn’t take it. He started to tap his knuckles together again, his mind overwhelming him every second something passed. 

“Alright,” Xander said, getting everyone’s attention, “We’ve just got to wait for Barnes and Dr. Abadi, and then we can all begin.” 

“Begin with what exactly?” Emma asked, her voice still shaky from both her ordeal and the shock of seeing Tom. 

Hidgens smiled, “Begin preparing for the end of the world, my dear.” 

“Not _preparing_ , Dr. Hidgens,” Xander said with a tired sigh, “Preventing.” 

Hidgens looked slightly disappointed, which didn’t settle right with Paul. 

“Now,” Xander began slightly, “These two gentlemen have already been debriefed on what happened on the dates of June 31st, July 1st, and the important events leading up till now. Although, gentlemen, it is important to note that on this occasion, Emma experienced a minor seizure as a result of what I’ve started to call the Bleed.” 

Tom’s eyes widened and he looked at Emma, “Shit.” 

Emma nodded tiredly, “Shit indeed.” 

Somehow, in the midst of their awkwardness and stifled bitterness, Paul could see the kindred spirits between the odd brother-and-sister-in-law duo. Though, he didn’t like the simple way that Xander had described Emma's condition.

Tom turned to Xander, “And this…” he said with a gesture to Emma, “...is being brought on because she’s experiencing memories that never happened?” 

“Not here.” Hannah said calmly, “Happened. But not here.” 

Tom nodded, but only to appease Hannah it seemed. Understanding never reaching his eyes. 

Paul looked at Emma, who still seemed to be basking in the shock of Tom and Hidgens’ presence. He knew that something probably didn’t sit right with her. It was easy to get overwhelmed, especially when someone just woke up. 

“Hey...Em, it’s okay, I’m here.” He whispered, even though she couldn’t possibly hear him. 

She flinched slightly and raised a hand to her temple, “Hey, Xander, how about those pain meds?” 

“Barnes will be back in a few moments, Emma, I’m not supposed to administer anything,” Xander said calmly. 

Emma groaned, closing her eyes slightly, “Where’d she go anyway?” 

“I sent her to pick up some scans,” He said, “She should be back any moment now.”

Hidgens, meanwhile, knelt down next to Emma, his hand phasing through Paul’s leg. 

“Emma,” He said carefully, leaning in, causing Emma to lean back a little to get out of the uncomfortable closeness with her still-somewhat-new professor, “You say you had dreams of a person who you’ve never seen?” 

“Uh…” her eyes darted to Xander, who only offered a shrug, “Yeah, I guess.” 

“Brilliant!” The man clapped his hands together and he walked about the room excitedly, “The Bleed is manifesting itself through her bond!” 

“Professor,” Xander said calmly, “Let's hold off on the conclusions until Dr. Abadi and Becky get here.” 

Tom turned, his eyes widening, “Becky?” 

As if on cue, Becky walked into the room trailing a woman wearing a pristine lab coat and a light blue hijab.

The new woman, Paul presumed this was Dr. Abadi, glanced around the room as her intelligent hazel eyes took in the surroundings, settling finally on Emma. 

“You must be Miss Emma Perkins,” she said, her voice clear and professional, at Emma’s nod she went on, “I am Doctor Kamaria Abadi, I’m the head paraneurologist here at PEIP.” 

He turned to John for an explanation, “Paraneurologist?” 

“Paraneurologist?” Emma asked, nearly parroting Paul.

The woman smiled warmly, “‘Para’ is a bit of an umbrella when it comes to prefixes, isn’t it, Lee?” 

Xander nodded with a smile, “Dr. Abadi specializes in the effects of the abnormal on the human nervous system. It just so happens that the paranormal is the most common effect, so ‘Para’ was the prefix they went with.” 

The woman smiled again, “In reality, I specialize with the effects on the energy of the Black and White and what it does to the brain.” 

Emma nodded slightly, “Okay…” Paul could tell this was going nowhere good, “okay.” 

As Emma continued to mutter ‘okay’ to herself Paul noticed that Tom had gone pale. 

“Becky Barnes.” He breathed, his eyes wide with something Paul couldn’t quite read.

“T-Tom.” Becky stammered her eyes almost popping out of her head, “Hi-Hi Tom.” 

“Hi, Tom Houston,” Tom said, his greeting somewhat forced, extending a hand for Becky to shake. 

“I know who you are, Becky!” she laughed nervously, “I mean, I’m Becky...Becky Barnes.” 

“I know.” Tom laughed, some hint of a smile forming on his face, “How’re you?” 

“I’m good!” Becky forced out quickly. 

Everyone’s eyes were trained on the pair in awkward silence before Emma’s voice interrupted the moment.

“Um...what the fuck?” she said, her eyebrows raised. 

“Oh, sorry Emma!” Becky all but screamed, moving hastily to the counter and grabbing a small cup of water and what looked like two small pills, rattling off her next few words on a nervous string “Here, this should help the headache. Glad to see you’re awake!” 

Xander’s eyes widened in realization, “Oh!!!” 

He turned to Tom, “That’s _Becky_ Becky?!?!” 

Tom nodded, his eyes still widened. 

Xander looked dumbfounded, which was something Paul was certain he’d never seen on the man.

He nodded quickly, “Um...okay then...let's get a move on then.” 

Emma was staring down at the blankets on her bed, her eyes wide and her hands shaky. Paul could only imagine how painful it must have been to see her brother-in-law be reunited with his childhood sweetheart. It was obvious that Tom was still _very much_ head-over-heels for Becky...but so close to Jane’s death? Talk about shitty timing. 

Becky went back to work, very pointedly trying not to look at Tom as she went into nurse’s mode, updating Emma’s chart. 

“I saw that you had Wilkins run the scans through Rodney’s anomaly software,” Dr. Abadi said calmly looking at Xander, “I wasn’t sure it would work, but I managed to pick up on some serious anomalies while looking through them.” 

Paul didn’t like the sound of that. 

Dr. Abadi moved to one of the light-panels where he’d seen people place x-rays in medical shows. She drew up two thin x-rays from an envelope she carried into the room with her and placed them onto the panel. They were two scans of what looked like a brain...Emma’s brain.

“At first glance,” Dr. Abadi said factually, her voice clear and attention-getting, “These look like normal CT scans. Everything looks normal. There’s no indication of trauma or anything that would concern us.” 

Somehow Paul didn’t think this would end well. 

She removed the scan from the panel and drew up a new one from the envelope, “This is one I had developed right after it was run through the software.” 

She placed the scan on the panel and Paul almost gasped.

Near the core and front of Emma’s brain was what looked like a swirling sea of dark blues and purples. 

“What are we looking at?” Ethan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What am I looking at, Kamaria?” Xander asked. 

Hidgens laughed like a maniac, making Emma and Hannah (and Paul) jump, “Don’t you see? This is simply remarkable!!!” He said excitedly, “The colors are around the prefrontal cortex of her brain, her amygdala, and hippocampus!!” 

Tom shook his head, “What does that mean?” 

“He means,” Dr. Abadi said, looking slightly perturbed at being interrupted, “That the anomalies are centered around the portions of the brain that are mostly functioned towards memory.” 

“So.” Xander said, his eyes wide, “Hannah was right.” 

At this, the little girl nodded and uttered only one word as she looked at Emma. 

“Remembering.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! They do be figuring stuff out.  
> Sure hope nothing bad happens to them.  
> I also like to call this chapter the soap opera chapter because the Becky/Tom reunion happens IN FRONT of Emma.  
> Hopefully, all the characters and things going on didn't get too confusing!!
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos!! I'd really like to know what you think!  
> As always...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	19. I'm Walking Down the Line that Divides Me Somewhere In My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stage is set with several truths and a couple of imposing decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day. 
> 
> Buckle up, this chapter's gonna be a ride (and it's kinda long so I'm sorry if it gets messy).

Reset No. 6

Date: July 7th, 2018

Being Unknown

Emma was done with everything. 

Had it not been for the absence of the really cute guy with the eyes from her dreams she would have thought she was still unconscious. 

For a moment before Becky had come back in, she’d thought she’d heard his voice again...telling her it would be alright, but she’d been tired and had a headache so she brushed it off and asked Xander for the damn pain meds because _holy hell_ her head still throbbed. 

She felt like she was in a scene from the _Wizard of Oz_. Waking up from a surreal experience that seemed so real in her mind, only to find familiar faces surrounding her. 

Well, she wouldn’t say _familiar._ She’d probably only known Professor Hidgens for a semester-worth of weird lectures. She’d only had Lex and Hannah as customers once. Tom had only spoken in-person to her once (and she hated that particular memory). 

It was kinda twisted that the faces she was most familiar with were the faces of Xander and Becky. 

Speaking of Becky, of _fucking_ course Tom would walk in and still be like a lovestruck high schooler around her. When Jane had called her and told her she was marrying Tom Houston over a decade before, she hadn’t believed it. She was still convinced that Tom was in love with her and his face proved it. 

The bitterness built and built inside her throat but she swallowed it down.

Then there was the matter of the scans and the funny vibrant colors against the shades of black and white. She didn’t believe, at first, that it was her brain she was looking at. She’d gotten x-rays before for a broken arm or wrist brought about by her small stature and some fights she probably couldn’t win, and they’d always come with disbelief that it was _her_ bones that she was looking at. Her brain was different. 

When Dr. Abadi placed the scan on the light panel, she felt like her stomach was falling through the endless chasm of her abdomen. 

It looked like someone had taken blue and purple spray paint and tried to paint a nebula within her brain. If she hadn’t seen the color-coded footage from the wreck on Sunday, she would have thought it was a weird piece of art. She probably would have liked it, even. Now, as she stared at the swirling of color, all she could feel was nauseous. 

Then Hannah had looked at her and whispered a word that made sense...and didn’t. 

“Remembering.” 

Lex knelt down next to her sister, “Remembering what, Hannah?” 

Hannah nodded with a small smile, “Not time for his name yet. But she’s remembering him.”

“You mean…” Xander said carefully, “The person she’s bonded to?” 

Hannah nodded and took a seat in a chair off to the side, beginning to scribble something on a legal pad Emma hadn’t seen her bring in. 

“I don’t even know his name…” she stammered, “And the only time I’ve ever seen him is in these dreams.” 

“Memories.” Hannah chided from her chair. 

“ _Memories._ ” She corrected, “So, where are these memories from? How am I remembering things that have _most definitely_ never happened.” 

Hidgens stepped forward, “That’s where I come in.” 

She was confused. She remembered that he’d been the nephew of one of PEIP’s founders and that he’d been...oh. 

“As I’m sure some of you are aware,” He began, “I used to be a scientist for PEIP. My aunt, Barbara Lavernor -may she rest in peace- had founded the science division for this organization, and I was desperate to be a part of it.” 

He sighed and Emma was strangely put-off by the faraway glance of fondness in his eyes. 

“Professor,” She began, “What does this have to do with these...memories?” 

“I’m getting there, Emma dear,” He said, waving her off, “On October tenth, in the year of 1977...I was only twenty-one at the time and was working with my Aunt Barb and a few other young scientists and interns on a project relating to the force you know as the Black and White.” 

He chuckled, “The youngest group of scientists on the project consisted of myself, and six other young men. Their names were Greg Markus, Steve Redford, Stu Crawley, Mark Nelson, Leighton Potter, and Chad Stevenson. Greg and Steve were both physicists, astrophysics, and biophysics respectively, Stu was a mathematician, Mark was a chemist, Leighton was a microbiologist, and Chad was an engineer. I, of course, was the resident biologist. We formed a brotherhood amongst ourselves, in those days. We called ourselves the ‘Workin’ Boys’.”

He glanced away wistfully, “We’d been working with PEIP for a little over a year, and the Black and White Project had been going for several years before that, so we were a little surprised when we were brought on to it.” 

“What were you doing?” Tom asked. 

Hidgens smiled slightly, “PEIP was once in possession of a portal. A portal that would allow entrance into the Black and White...we were tasked with seeing if we could collect samples of _anything_ tangible within the Black and White and test it. The energy readings were off the charts, so you can imagine the widespread excitement among the group when the time came and we were selected to go in.”

“What did you find?” Emma asked. 

Hidgens' face fell, “An endless sea of blackness is what we found….but also, little bursts of light.” 

“Light?” 

He nodded, “They appeared to be faraway windows. Places we could see but never touch, only...different. We came to the conclusion, through further examination, that they were alternate timelines. Alternate realities.” 

Everyone seemed to stiffen at that disbelief burgeoning in everyone’s eyes.

“I know,” He said dramatically, “We didn’t believe it either...we were so caught up in researching these other realities and the energies of the Black and White, we didn’t realize that we weren’t alone.” 

“What was in there, Professor?” Emma asked, unable to comprehend what she was hearing. _Alternate realities?_ That all seemed a little far-fetched. But then again, so did being soulmates with someone you didn’t know existed and couldn’t remember their name.

Hidgens sighed, “To tell you the truth...I’m not sure. All I knew was within moments six of my friends had disappeared from my sight in flashes of so many different colors that I couldn’t understand...within moments I was alone. They’d just disappeared...I began to make my way to the portal, as our plan had been to regroup at the exit point if we ever got separated...but by the time I’d made it to the exit point, I heard it.” 

“Heard what, Professor?” Xander asked, his eyebrows raised.

The older man grimaced, and he turned his gaze towards Emma, which sent an unpleasant shiver up her spine. The old man may have been one of her favorite professors, but the way he was talking about his life made her feel like she was five years old listening to Jane’s corny ghost stories all over again. 

“It sounded…” the old man started, “Like singing... at first. I thought I heard something musical echoing through the darkness…” 

He shuddered, “But that singing was soon joined by heinous laughter, and that laughter was joined by the sound of weeping and through all of the noise I could hear the sounds of my friends screaming.” 

He looked down, “The next thing I knew, I felt this immense amount of pain. I woke up five days later back in the PEIP infirmary.” 

He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a tree-like, black scar and Emma felt ill, “I’d been blasted with some of the energies of the Black and White. And suddenly...I could hear things.” 

Lex perked up, “Like Hannah can?” 

Hannah looked up and shook her head, “Not a seer. Not Webby. Something else.” 

Hidgens nodded, “My aunt told me that whatever had been in there had been kind enough to return the bodies of my friends…” He froze and stared at the ground, “All six of them were dead. I, however, had come shooting through the portal like a rocket and had broken one of my shoulder blades in the process.”

“They didn’t hold funerals for my friends, the bodies had been so damaged they hardly had anything to bury. They were cremated and I was discharged for the damage done...both mental and physical.” 

“Dr. Hidgens,” Xander said, “Pardon my interruption...but in February of 1988 you attempted to publish seven papers each one characterizing different scenarios of the apocalypse.”

“That I did, son.” 

“Not only that, you had data and science supporting these theories,” Xander said, “How did you get this information?”

“Voices,” Hannah said sagely, not looking up from the notebook. 

At this Hidgen’s nodded, “It’s not Webby...its something else…That's all I can think of to describe it, but I could suddenly see and hear things that hadn’t happened yet or would come to pass.”

“Wait-Wait…” Tom spoke up, “When you say Webby, you mean my aunt’s source?” 

Emma looked at him, confused “Your aunt?”

That was when it hit her. 

_Houston._

_Major General Cynthia Houston._

“Your aunt was _Cynthia Houston_?!” She asked him, “So everyone and their aunt is at PEIP?!” 

Tom nodded with a dry chuckle, “She would bust me for things when I was little, telling me she knew because she had a ‘source’.” He said with air quotes, “I didn’t get it until I agreed with Xander to come back.”

“Come back?!” Becky asked.

“Tom was a Captain, it's a very long story,” Xander got out really fast, “Professor, go on please.”

Hidgens nodded, “After I managed to get my doctorate and publish those papers, I was written off as a lunatic...instead I prepared for the things that I had seen. Holing myself up in my house to be ready.” 

She was reminded of the panic room she’d dropped groceries off at weeks before.

“Eventually I began to see a little more...not much, but more all the same,” The man went on, “I realized that the apocalyptic scenarios were things that were going to happen within a span of time, _but in separate timelines_.” 

Now she was confused, “You mean in alternate realities?” 

The man chuckled and shook his head before turning to Lex, “Xander tells me you’ve been bonded to someone named Ethan, is that true?” 

Lex nodded, “Hannah says that Webby says so...but I’ve never known an Ethan and I definitely didn’t recognize the green blur from the wreck footage.”

Hidgens nodded and he turned to Xander, “You’re bonded to someone named John...am I correct?” 

Xander nodded in response.

“Let me guess,” Hidgens said, holding up his hands, “Ethan is a punk kid of about nineteen, wears a leather jacket, uses fifties slang and can’t spell.” 

Hannah looked up and nodded hurriedly, her eyes wide. 

Hidgens smiled and turned back to Xander, “John is...a soldier, red hair, green eyes, wears a beret and a watch...so he’s from PEIP.”

Xander went pale, “Y-yes...but I didn’t know he was in PEIP… How’d you...” 

“You see,” Hidgens said, “These separate timelines aren’t from other realities...they’re from _this one_.”

“So how could they…” Emma was cut off as the man continued. 

“My theory is that Hatchetfield is in a reality that is stuck in a loop.” He looked at Tom a piteous look in his eyes, not giving anyone time to process his words, “Your wife, Jane...she died in a car accident last Christmas, didn’t she?” 

Tom nodded. Hidgens seemed unsurprised at this. 

Emma felt the shock make her way into her veins, “Professor, I never told you about-”

“You didn’t.” he said, looking at her, “I’ve watched your sister’s death in my dreams several times.”

He paused before letting his gaze dance between Emma and Tom, “Which is why I think that Jane’s death is the starting point in the loop. The loop goes from Jane’s death and continues until an apocalyptic event wipes the town.” 

Emma felt sick. The notion that Jane had died so many times so the world could fucking restart...it was too much to bear. She looked at Tom, who’d gone white, his knuckles clenched at his sides. She wondered if he had nightmares about Jane as she had. Probably more so than she, as he’d been there. She pushed the painful thoughts of Jane away as the conversation continued. 

“What happens when the event wipes out the town?” Xander asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“If I am correct…” The old man said biting on his lower lip, “It simply...resets.” 

Emma looked up at him, still very confused, “What does that have to do with Ethan and John...and the guy who saved me? And what about these memories?” 

Hidgens looked back at Lex, “You’re not having any memories involving this Ethan fellow?” 

Lex shook her head, “Not one.” 

Hidgens nodded, “That's because...if my dreams are correct, Ethan died.” 

Silence fell over the room as he went on. 

“I believe he died in the second apocalyptic event I theorized,” He said, “I didn’t see much of it, but I did see that young boy die in the arms of you…” he pointed to Tom, “and you” he pointed to Becky. 

Silence fell again. 

Hannah looked up, her eyes wide as she chirped through the abrupt silence “Not all gone.”

Hidgens nodded, “Ah yes!” He said pointing at Hannah, which made the girl flinch, not that he noticed, “He died...but his _soul_ was pulled into the Black and White. He was followed very quickly by your John.” He said to Xander. 

“John’s dead?” Xander said, an unreadable emotion crossing his gaze. 

“Well yes...and no.” Hidgens said calmly, “If I remember correctly from the vision, General John McNamara followed the President of the United States into the Black and White...but since he went in without a suit, his body dematerialized and his soul joined Ethan’s in the Black and White.” 

“Wait! This is crazy!!” Emma exclaimed suddenly, making her head protest and add more pain to her already throbbing skull, “If you’re right, and this... _world_... resets every time the town is wiped out, then why aren’t Ethan and John here?” 

Xander nodded, “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense.” 

“Trapped.” Hannah chirped, looking up, “Souls trapped. Bonds stretched.” 

“That is correct, Hannah,” Hidgens smiled with a curt nod, “Their souls were trapped in the Black and White, and therefore, their bonds tethered them to this one, allowing them to be able to see you and walk amongst you without your noticing. But because their souls are trapped there, they cannot reset here.”

Xander looked up, “You said they…” he paused, clearly not wanting to say it, “You said they died in the second apocalyptic event...what about the one who saved Emma?” 

Hidgens raised an eyebrow, “What do you think?”

“I mean…” Xander sputtered, “This is all too... _incredible..._ I mean...a-a time loop?” 

Hidgens nodded, “It is a lot to take in.” 

Emma looked up, “Does that mean...my guy...whoever he is…” she didn’t want to say the final words. She was still reeling from the revelation that the guy was real. The person who’d loved her in her dreams more than anyone in her real life had was _real._ And these dreams...they were _memories_ of him. The moments that characterized her dreams, that seemed too happy and vulnerable for them to be her own, they had been actual moments she’d shared with him. 

She couldn’t even remember his name. And he was already dead. 

“Died in a past reset?” Hidgens finished for her, a sympathetic look on his face.

She nodded looking down in her lap, expecting to hear him say ‘yes’. 

Instead, Hidgens sat down on the edge of her bed, “Well...that's the odd case.” 

She looked up, “What do you mean?” 

He smiled, “From what little myself and my companions learned about the Black and White when we ventured into it, we learned that the fabric of this reality, the one bonding our Hatchetfield to its place in the Black and White, was already very weak. Weaker than most other realities. It's because of that, that these apocalyptic forces have been able to enforce their abilities onto our reality in the past...It's why extremely sensitive people like Hannah can hear forces like Webby and why Lex can do what she can.” 

“What?!” Lex’s head snapped up, “What do you mean?” 

Hidgens smiled at her, “Your sister can hear Webby...did you honestly think that you weren’t Black and White sensitive as well?” 

Lex fell silent and stared at the ground not wanting to prompt him further. Emma felt sorry for the girl. That was a large bomb to drop on a teenager who had very obviously spent most of her energy on raising her little sister. Part of her was angry at Hidgens for dropping something like that on Lex. Regardless of this, he went on. 

“You see,” He said, “My visions have been a lot less frequent and a lot less long as I’ve gotten older, Emma. But when I do get them, too often I see a man...tall, brown hair, bright blue eyes?” He looked to her for confirmation. 

She nodded, the guy’s face appearing in her mind. His warm smile making her think that everything was going to be alright. 

“When I see him, I see flashes of him...flying into a portal, similar to the one I entered with my friends all those years ago. I can only assume his soul merged with the Black and White and he joined Ethan and John.” 

He went on, not even bothering to read the sadness and confusion that she could only imagine was showing on her face, “However, because the fabric of our reality was so weak already, the presence of three soul bonds, stretched across the thresholds of reality was too much for the fabric to take.” 

He looked at Emma, “It’s why he was able to save you on Sunday, and it’s why you’re having these memory-blackouts.” he sighed before looking at the scans, still illuminated against the light paneling, “If I’m right, I think he died in the most recent reset...which is why the memories are much more clear for you...they seem like they just happened, yes?”

She nodded, her heart clenching at the memory of the way the guy had held her. The way he’d comforted her had seemed like something she had never experienced and yet somehow felt so familiar.

Hidgens nodded, “I figured. Three bonds stretched into the Black and White was too much for the fabric of reality to take, which is why the memories of the past reset are literally bleeding through in Emma’s blackouts. Every time she experiences a memory, her body is momentarily torn apart across resets, part of her physiological and psychological being is in the memories lost to the Black and White. And because of that fabric allowing it through, the forces of the Black and White can make the inevitable coming apocalypse worse than before, their influences could know no bounds.” 

“Drowning,” Hannah said with a nod. 

Emma felt hopeless, “What does that mean?” 

“Have you ever heard of the phrase, the heart remembers what the mind can’t or some shit like that?” Hidgens asked her. 

At her nod, he went on, “In some ways, the soul and heart remember much better than the brain itself.” 

He moved closer to her, “Your soul is so desperately trying to remember him, that you’re tearing yourself apart unconsciously to do so.” 

She looked up at Dr. Abadi, who seemed to concur with everything her seemingly lunatic professor was saying, “What track is this on... I mean- How bad can this get?” 

Dr. Abadi looked from the scans to Emma, “I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Emma, dealing with _interdimensional_ damage to the body is uncharted territory. But judging from the way your reactions to each episode have been escalating, the seizures could grow progressively worse in the coming weeks. You’ve kept bouncing back as if nothing happened afterward, but we don’t know if it’ll stay that way.” 

She didn’t like the way that sounded. Her heart pounded in her chest and she fought against the growing tightness, “When you say ‘progressively worse’...Progressively worse...as in?” 

Dr. Abadi sighed, “I think, if we can’t find a way to stop this, Emma, you could be on the track for a coma. Maybe even worse...but then again, there's no conclusive way of knowing.” 

“Do we have any idea how to stop it, Kam?” Xander asked.

Dr. Abadi sighed again, “Unfortunately I’m not sure, but Emma might be here for a while.”

“Let it in. Return.” a wise voice whispered. 

Everyone turned to Hannah who was now walking over to Emma, starting to gently tear out the paper she’d been scribbling on. 

Hidgens seemed to understand, “You mean find a way to get them back?” 

Hannah nodded, “Return. Bond’s returned. Fabric repairs itself. They lose.” 

“You mean…” Lex said, her voice trailing off, “Resurrect a bunch of dead guys?” 

Emma could have sworn she heard a laugh come from around where Lex was standing, but she couldn’t find the source.

Hidgens shook his head, “No...she means pulling their souls from the Black and White...finding a way to re-materialize them in this reset.” 

“How?” Tom asked, “I mean, up until a couple of days ago...these guys didn’t even exist.” 

Emma could see a slight pain in her brother-in-law’s eyes. The notion that Jane’s death was used as a starting point for a screwed-up time loop was a painful one. She thanked whatever God was out there that Tim wasn’t here.

“Yeah…” Lex spoke up, “Xander only has a drawing of John, I can’t even remember the guy who’s supposed to be Ethan.” 

Hidgens nodded, “Well, he was the first among them to die...so it would make sense that the memories of him are the most distant for you. But...I wonder…” 

“Dr. Hidgens,” Dr. Abadi said, “I wonder if I might be allowed to authorize some scans on you? Just a few MRIs to establish... ”

“No.” The man said quickly, “I’d rather not.” 

She nodded in understanding. 

“So...you say that getting them back will prevent…” Emma paused on the words, “...the _apocalypse_ …and to maybe...keep me from losing my head?” 

Hannah finally finished carefully tearing the page and handed it to her. She didn’t look down at the paper as Hannah stared up at her. 

“Let it in.” she murmured, “They can remember.”

She gestured towards Lex and Xander, who looked dumbfounded. 

“She means you have to let the memories in if they’re ever going to remember John and Ethan,” Hidgens explained, looking way too excited for such a somber subject. 

“No!”

“Absolutely not.” 

Becky and Dr. Abadi spoke at the same time, both of their eyes wide in disbelief. 

“If this continues to progress Emma could very well be killing herself!” Becky said quickly. 

“I have to agree with Barnes,” Dr. Abadi said strictly, “I think we should just monitor Emma’s progress and try and prevent the symptoms first, then we can worry about utilizing the memories.” 

“Don’t you see?!” Hidgens argued emphatically, “There is _no_ stopping the soul from remembering! She’s going to remember regardless of whether or not science can try and stop it.” 

“So...just to hell with Emma’s life then?” Tom said suddenly, shocking Emma again. She didn’t think he cared enough to have an input. 

“You heard Dr. Abadi!” Becky said quickly, anger in her usually-amiable voice, “If this continues, Emma could blackout and never wake back up again!” 

“She’s been bouncing back quite well!” Hidgens argued, “I don’t see how this causes alarm.” 

“You can’t bounce back from death, Hidgens.” Xander said tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Unless you’re maybe...I don’t know, Jesus or something.”

“ _All of you shut the fuck up!”_

Everyone turned to where Lex was standing, her fists shaking at her sides. 

“You’re all going on and on about what’s best for Emma, but _none_ of you have asked her what _she_ wants.” She said, her voice lowering gently in volume as she spoke, noticing how it scared Hannah.

“Just...maybe think about that and stop acting like she’s not there.” She said as she knelt beside Hannah, murmuring apologies.

The eyes turned to Emma, making her feel extremely small. 

Her mind was racing. 

What did she want?

She wasn’t quite sure. 

She’d come back to Hatchetfield because she _wanted_ to make things work with Tim and Tom- but mostly Tim. She’d gotten a job at Beanies and started her education in Botany at the community college because she _wanted_ to make something of herself. 

Everything had spiraled out of control so quickly and now the only choice it seemed was to potentially give her life away for the sake of a memory from a past life. 

Still, as far away in the past as it may have seemed...it was real.

If Hidgens and his bullshit theories were correct, then they were on a one-way track towards the apocalypse, and something far worse if they didn’t get the fabric of reality to seal back up. She wanted to scoff at the notion, but the instances over the past couple of days made everything seem so unreal...she had to believe it was true. 

“Hidgens…” she said, “You said the town is always wiped out by the apocalypse?” 

“Yes.” He affirmed with a gentle nod.

“And…” she hesitated, “If we don’t get them back...this - _fuck-_ everything will get really fucked up?” 

“That's putting it nicely,” He said, “We’re talking the apocalypses of the past coming back and haunting us...it could potentially permanently end this reality.” 

She swallowed hard. This was a lot. 

There really seemed to be only one choice. 

If Hidgens and Dr. Abadi were right, the dreams and memories would continue anyway...and until she ‘let it in’, Lex and Xander would never be able to remember John or Ethan. But then again, they were going to have to get them back in some way regardless of whether or not Emma remembered him if the fucking world wasn’t gonna come crashing down around them. 

“Okay, okay,” She said, looking at Xander and Hidgens, “Let's say I agree to get them back, to remember them...how would we do that?”

Hidgens turned to Lex, “It’s like I said, Lex has a power...they both do.” 

“I’m sorry but what the fuck?” Lex said, whirling on him. 

“Sometimes you’ve found things you don’t remember owning in places you can’t remember putting them, right?” 

Lex seemed to freeze for a moment, her eyes widening, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean that you somehow managed to get a stuffed mouse from your place of work to your house and didn’t even remember stealing it for Hannah.” He said. 

“N-No,” Lex stammered, “I got it for Hannah, with the intention to give it to Hannah!” 

“You don’t even remember toys like that mouse going on sale at ToyZone, do you?” He said, his gaze unwavering. 

Lex seemed to think for a moment, her face pale, “Kn-Knock it off, I’m _sure_ it was...I know it was. So...fuck off old man.” 

“Professor…” Emma tried to reason with him, but Hidgens didn’t stop.

“You can pull things from the Black and White, Lex.” He said, a small smile on his face, “I’ve seen you do it.” 

“Oh yeah?” she said with a scoff, “In your bullshit past lifetimes?” 

He nodded, “It saved your life...and Hannah’s several times, and I think it can save the world...all you need is some help.” 

“What?” She said with a dry chuckle, “Help from someone like you?” 

“Exactly.” he said, his face and tone completely serious, “I can teach you and Hannah to hone your skills in the Black and White, and using the decommissioned portal from over thirty years ago, you can pull John, Ethan, and Emma’s bond partner out of the Black and White.”

Lex fell back into a chair, “Fuck off, no…” she buried her face in her hands, “I’m completely normal. Hannah’s special. Hannah’s cut out for all this shit. Not me.” 

“You know you’re not.” Hidgens said gently, “You and your sister were both chosen a long time ago for-.” 

“Lex.” Tom gently whispered, cutting Hidgens off and surprising Emma with his sudden shift into a caring mode, “If you want to leave with Hannah, you can. We’ll give you time.” 

Hannah knelt in front of her sister, “Okay, Lexi. Have time.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma could see Tom shoot Hidgens a warning glare as Lex stood with a curt nod. She took Hannah’s hand and walked out of the room wiping her eyes.

As soon as the door to the room shut she looked up at her teacher, “What the _fuck_ was that?” she demanded of him. 

“If the world is going to survive, Lex has to acknowledge just what she is.” He said, no remorse in his gaze. 

“What she _is…_ ” Tom hissed, “Is a kid. A scared kid who’s been spending as long as I’ve known her trying to keep her sister safe. And you just dropped the fate of the world on her shoulders.” 

Hidgens said nothing, but Emma could tell he didn’t feel remorseful. 

“If the fate of the world really depends on getting John, Ethan, and Emma’s guy,” Xander said, his eyes filled with a cool fury Emma wouldn’t have expected from him, “We can find another way.” 

“You won’t,” Hidgens said in a way that infuriated Emma, “But Lex will come around.” 

“Oh and I suppose you’ve seen it?” Tom snarled, “She’s seventeen for God’s sake!”

“Yes, but her own and her sister's abilities are the only things that can keep this world alive!” Hidgens argued, “If we want to get Ethan, John, and the other one back, we need her and Hannah. But they’ll come around. I’m not worried.” 

Tom snorted and turned away as Hidgens turned his gaze on Emma, “As I said, the decommissioned portal could work as a tear in the fabric that she could pull them through….that or a portal I have constructed myself. Either way, it will work…” 

“So…” Emma whispered, “We don’t really have a choice in whether or not we need to get them back?” 

“No, Emma.” Hidgens shook his head, “They have to come back, and _you_ have to remember.” 

Dr. Abadi opened her mouth to protest but Hidgens cut her off, “She must remember her soulbond completely if Lex and Xander are going to remember Ethan and John. This has to happen before we pull them back in.”

“And what if Emma dies?” Becky demanded, “What if her soulbond suddenly doesn’t have a person to come home to?”

Hidgens merely shrugged and the room was enveloped in a chorus of sighs. 

“The memories are going to happen whether anyone likes it or not,” He reasoned, “There’s no stopping them. But the memories are also crucial to the three taking their place in the world again.” 

He turned to face Emma again, “You are the key to making them exist in this reset again...we can’t do it without you...your _soulmate_ can’t do it without you.”

Part of her wanted to follow in Lex’s footsteps and tell her wacky professor to fuck off. Part of her wanted to laugh at him and call him crazy for all the bullshit and pseudoscience he’d just flung in their faces. But part of her knew...it was real. 

She suddenly remembered the image that Hannah had handed her and she unfolded the paper gently. 

What she saw took her breath away. 

It was a near-perfect sketch of that same guy. A dorky grin on his stupid face, with a softness in his eyes she couldn't quite place. While the sketch lacked color, she could clearly see the softness and texture of his hair, the shape of his eyes, the redness of his cheeks when he got flustered. Most clearly though, she could see the blue of his eyes. That blue that made her immediately feel like everything was going to be okay. 

Much unlike her extremely nonromantic self, she could have melted on the spot from staring at his face. 

She remembered how incredible it had felt to be loved in the way he'd loved her. In every moment- good, bad, or ugly- that the dreams had thrown at her and portrayed, there was never a moment that she doubted how much he loved her. When she looked at them, her chest was filled with something intoxicating and warm that she couldn't recognize. If soulmates were real- which, according to all the potentially crazy but credible people in the room, they were- she had a feeling that that's what having one felt like. 

To tell anyone the truth, deep-down, Emma had _wanted so badly_ for him to be real. 

She’d wanted to believe that someone as incredible, kind, and caring as him was capable of loving a fucked-up person like her. 

In truth, she felt like _he_ was what she’d been missing before she’d even known she had something to miss.

She may not have remembered his name...but he was real…

He was real. 

Every laugh, every tear, every embrace, every kiss...

He was real. 

His love for her was real. 

And she knew that she loved him too. 

A tear ran down her cheek and a chuckle caught in her throat. 

_She loved him too._

Part of her knew how ridiculous it was. That she loved someone who’d never even existed in this lifetime. But regardless of how insane and how weird it was, he was real to her. Even before that first dream, she knew, in something beyond the cheesy concepts of what the heart knew, that someone in her life was missing. 

But he wasn’t gone. 

He wasn’t gone…

And she was going to get him back. 

“Okay…” she said, her voice croaking, “I’ll do it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow...now they know stuff and what they need to do.  
> Hopefully, nothing bad will happen to them. 
> 
> Me, writing this: *Looks at Tom*  
> Me: Yes, you are a dad.
> 
> Me: *Looks at Hidgens*  
> Me: You're kinda a villain...or maybe more of an antihero/chaotic neutral?
> 
> Me: *Looks at Lex and Hannah*  
> Me: You two are precious and need to be protected.
> 
> Me; *Looks at Emma*  
> Me: YOU. ARE. IN. LOVE!!!
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos if so desired!! Let me know if you got confused or need things clarified!! I still love and appreciate you for reading all the same!
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	20. As if You Don't Remember, As if You Can Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex is shocked.  
> John has hope.  
> Becky is guilty.  
> Emma has another episode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this song comes from the song "Silhouette" by Aquilo. 
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Mentioned Parental death, mentioned sibling death

Reset No. 6

Date: July 8th, 2020 

Being Unknown

Lex spent the day after that fucked-up meeting in Emma’s infirmary room in their residential quarters. 

Hannah didn’t seem to mind staying in the apartment. They were getting used to what was going to be their home for what Lex presumed was going to be a while. 

She immediately had decided that she heartily disliked that Doctor Higgins...Huggins? Hudgens? She didn’t care. He’d tried to tell her what she was...what her place in the world was...and she couldn’t get behind that. 

So, she’d gotten the fuck out of there (not that she needed Mr. Houston’s permission) and taken Hannah with her. 

The way the guy had talked about her and Emma...it was almost as if they were instruments in the prevention of the universe’s end. 

God, she was only seventeen years old. Supposed to turn eighteen in less than a month. She wasn’t world-saving material. She was going to be an actress for God’s sake!

She tried to disprove everything the man had told her. 

She’d found the mouse (Going by Mo today) on the clearance section, hadn’t she? Now that she thought of it, she couldn’t remember...but then again, depending on what she’d drank or smoked that day, the days would get a little hazy. She’d just come home with the mouse in hand and smiled down at it when she realized it would be a great gift for Hannah, simply assuming she’d snagged it when Frank hadn’t been looking. 

After leaving the meeting in Emma’s infirmary room, she and Hannah had made dinner out of the ramen Becky had brought them from the commissary and watched whatever TV they could get from the small TV in their room. Most of it was just chill cooking channels that Hannah liked watching. Lex never saw the appeal in them, but if they kept Hannah happy, she was fine. 

Now it was 10:14 in the morning and Hannah was still curled up on the couch, having woken up a few hours before after falling asleep to reruns of _Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives_. It was a wonder that Guy Fieri didn’t stress Hannah out, rather just put her to sleep.

Lex hadn’t slept at all the night before, she’d cuddled up beside Hannah on the couch, not wanting to take the bed neither of them had claimed yet, but sleep never came. 

Her mind was awake, the words of the lunatic old man and the prospects of the end of the world all seemed unreal. At about three in the morning, she’d decided to try and eat a Little Debbie snack, but she immediately found everything unappetizing.

It could be worse, she knew. She could have ended up like Emma and been at the epicenter of being physically awful. She felt sorry for the woman who’d given them Banana bread and coffee on the house. While she didn’t know Emma all that well, she knew that Emma was probably more trustworthy than the other people she met at PEIP. Becky was still trustworthy, but the fact that she worked with PEIP made her lose points. The same thing went for Mr. Houston. 

She rejoined Hannah on the couch and closed her eyes, the sound of some midwestern middle-aged woman talking about cooking frittatas correctly serving as white noise. 

She took Hannah’s hand and sighed gently, thinking about what had happened. Hannah seemed to shake for a moment at this, before squeezing slightly in acknowledgment. 

Holding Hannah’s hand always calmed her down. Even while her mind was awake and running a thousand miles an hour, just being around Hannah made everything seem like it was going to be okay for once. In spite of the present circumstances, Hannah made Lex feel calmer and stronger. 

None of it made sense.

Hannah was a special one. The one who was going to save the world. She’d seen a superhero in Hannah from the moment she’d been born, the Black and White vision thing only proved what she’d already known. 

But she’d not wanted that for Hannah and she certainly didn’t want that for herself. 

Sure, her sister was incredible in every single way. Good days and bad days alike. But this? This was something that no one should put on a seventeen-year-old and eleven-year-old.

Her head was throbbing slightly from the lack of sleep. 

Hannah snuggled in closer to her left side. 

She squeezed Hannah’s hand gently when she realized something that made her go rigid.

She wasn’t holding Hannah’s hand. 

The hand she was holding was too big and too rough to belong to her sister, and from what she could feel, the hand was gloved. That, and the fact that Hannah was nestled into the complete _opposite_ side of the hand that she was holding. 

“Fuck!” She gasped and the hand left hers quickly, leaving behind something leathery in her hand. 

She dropped it and drew her hand back quickly, almost slamming her elbow painfully into the wall behind her. She looked to where her hand was previously positioned and was met by empty air. 

Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked around for a sign... _anything_ , that would indicate that a person had been there but she found nothing. Blood rushed in her ears as her eyes searched the room. 

Hannah, in spite of Lex’s sudden outburst, seemed unsurprised. 

“Okay?” She questioned, her dark eyes wide. 

Lex didn’t know how to respond.

What the hell had just happened?

Hannah leaned down and pulled the small object from where Lex had dropped it and held it up. 

“What’re you…” Lex started before her eyes fell on the object. 

It was a glove. A fingerless, studded glove. Something that a motorcyclist or a member from a grunge band would wear. 

“What…” she didn’t know what to say, “What the- what the _fuck_?” 

Hannah smiled slightly and held the glove out for Lex to take- which, in spite of her own apprehensions, she did. 

The glove looked like it was slightly bigger than her own hand size, made of black leather, or faux leather...she couldn’t really tell from the quality...and she really didn’t care. 

What was even weirder to her, was that the glove was still warm. 

Hannah smiled slightly, “Did it.” 

She turned back to her sister, glove still in hand, “W-what?” 

“Reached in.” Her sister whispered excitedly, before nodding at the glove. 

Her next words made Lex feel like she was going to be sick. 

“Ethan’s.” 

\---

John knew that after the meeting with Emma, Xander was going to be spending the majority of the next twenty-four hours doing anything but sleep. 

Apparently, that was a commonality amongst PEIP scientists whether or not they were current or former. 

It was because of this fact, that John had spent the next fourteen and a half hours in Xander’s office, watching Xander and Professor Hidgens discuss a plan to get John, Ethan, and Paul (although they didn’t know his name, yet), out of the Black and White. After Tom had left, promising to return the next day, the old man had immediately wanted to discuss a means by which the world could be saved. 

“As I mentioned before, Dr. Lee,” The old man was saying, “I have a replicant of the portal used all those years ago...but I’ve still not found the equation of convergence.” 

“How do you have a portal?” Xander asked, “How were you not immediately put on some watchlist?” 

“When people write you off for the most part as a crazy old coot it’s easy,” The old man said with a lackadaisical tone, “The records were all sealed off or destroyed, so the equation of convergence became out of my reach, I’ve spent years trying to find it.” 

“Convergence?” Xander asked, the lack of sleep making it clear that he was finding the old man a little hard to follow. 

“In order for us to access the Black and White, we must converge with the border of this reality,” the professor explained, “The portal acts as a doorway, a tear really, in the fabric of the reality, one we can seal up at our own will.” 

“And if Lex decides to comply…” Xander began being cut off by the overexcited man. 

“Which she will.” 

“ _If_ she decides to comply,” Xander hissed again, “We can pull the three undead Black and White people out?” 

“Yes,” Hidgens said with a nod, “And then the fabric of reality can repair itself blocking the apocalyptic forces out.” 

“See… you say apocalyptic forces,” Xander began, pinching the bridge of his nose in a way John had always found adorable, “What do you mean by that?” 

Hidgens shifted uncomfortably, “You see…” he said, hesitant, “When I first went into the Black and White all those years ago, my friends were taken from me...I’m only knowledgeable of six resets in this time loop.”

“And this is the seventh?” 

He shook his head, “No...this is the sixth.” He sighed and went on, “If I remember correctly from my earlier visions, each apocalyptic event has been enforced upon our world by strange and unnatural beings from within the Black and White.” 

“Beings…” Xander said, “As in?” 

The old man ran a hand through his silver hair, “How much do you know about greek mythology?” 

“I know some of the basic stories,” Xander said, his eyes intrigued. 

“Then you’re familiar with the concept of the Titans?” Hidgens asked. At Xander’s nod he went on, “These beings...as far as I know, there are seven… are like the Titans. Powerful, ravenous, destructive...they once walked among realities and bent them to their will...before something happened and they were sealed within the Black and White. They remained there, causing no harm to any realities until they stumbled across Hatchetfield.” 

“And because the fabric of this reality was so weak…” Xander said, his eyes calculating, “They were able to enforce their will on this world.” 

“But only one at a time,” Hidgens said calmly, “They thought that they would get to watch this world die off like any other, but when it reset...they found their perfect playground.” 

“But now...because the fabric is even more damaged because of the bonds…” 

“They will soon be able to come in all at once,” Hidgens said with a grave look, “The resets will still occur, but they can toy with us for all eternity...All at once.” 

John didn’t like the way it sounded. None of the information was new to him, but hearing it come from Hidgens made it sound all the worse. Maybe it was because the old man possessed an unfathomable flare for the dramatics. Maybe it was because they were discussing the literal end of the world. 

“Earlier you said it could permanently end this reality,” Xander said. 

“I did...but now that I actually think about it, if the nature of the resets is consistent, then the resets will still occur.” 

The sound of beeping came from Xander’s transponder and he pressed the button. 

“This is Lee.” He said. 

“ _Lee, this is Abadi,_ ” the garbled voice of Dr. Kamaria Abadi came through the transponder. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” He said, his tiredness making its way into his voice. 

_“Emma had another episode._ ” She said factually, with only the slightest hint of pain in her voice. In spite of her powerful professionalism, Kam had a big heart that made her one of the best Doctors John had ever known. It was why he was glad Becky had joined PEIP and found a likeness in people like Kam. 

John and Xander straightened together in unison. John didn’t even want to think about how Paul was taking it. He’d seemed so _broken_ and desperate in Emma’s room yesterday as he’d asked for any way they could get Emma’s episodes to end. But with the way the meeting had ended, he’d seemed to have a slight renewal of hope.

He’d turned to John, happy that they were going to be taken out of the Black and White, but upset with the fact that Emma was trying to harm herself to remember him...all because Hidgens said she had to. 

John knew it was selfish to want Xander to remember him, and an extremely tiny part of his subconscious was envious of Paul for having his soulbond remember him. But he knew that Emma was suffering because of it, and he wouldn’t wish that on Xander or anybody. 

Despite being an overly anxious man, there was a strength to Paul. A loyalty he never could see in many people. Paul was protective but sensitive. Borderlining on meekness and assertiveness. John knew his heart was big, and that it ached for Emma every time she had an episode. For both Paul’s sake and Emma’s, he could only hope this episode wasn’t bad. 

“How bad?” Xander asked after a moment of silence, his face set in a mix of guilt and something unreadable. 

“ _Worse than yesterday, Xander,_ ” Kam said, her voice tired, “ _Her blood got darker and was coming from her ears this time... in addition to the nose and eyes.”_

John remembered Paul muttering something about how dark her blood had been once she was taken out of the MRI from yesterday. 

“Were there tremors?” 

“ _Nothing above mild twitching like yesterday…”_ she responded, “ _Becky was in the middle of acquiring a blood sample when the seizure happened again...still myoclonic, only worse. She managed to call me and we got her stabilized again.”_

Xander nodded, “Thank you for letting me know.” 

_“Xander…”_ Kam whispered, “ _Are we really going to let her go through with this...not even try and prevent it?”_

Hidgens sighed loudly, “They’re going to happen regardless of what we do to stop it.”

“ _I take it Professor Huggins is there?”_ Kam sighed. 

“Hidgens, but yeah…” Xander said, pinching the bridge of his nose again, “Just...keep me posted Kam...you said she was stable?” 

“ _About as stable as one could be after a seizure,”_ She paused, “ _But yeah...she's unconscious but we’re monitoring her brain waves._ ”

“And?” 

“ _To tell you the truth Xander, I’ve never seen anything like this...which is to be expected, all things considered,”_ she sounded like she chuckled, “ _But she looks like she’s in pain and gonna have one hell of a migraine when she wakes up...she seems to be on track to wake up, by the way.”_

“Okay…” Xander said, “Just keep me posted. And I’ll be sure to let Tom know when he gets here later.”

John remembered the subtle way Tom had taken Xander aside before he left. At first, they’d talked about Becky -which, John found it hilarious that Xander didn’t realize that Becky Barnes was the same Becky Barnes that Tom had dated in high school. Then they’d talked about reinstating Tom back within PEIP, allowing him to return to his position but remain outside of combat- the Iraq mission leaving its invisible scar. After discussing matters of Becky and reinstatement, however, Tom had cast a glance back at the room in which Emma remained and whispered to Xander, “Let me know when stuff happens...please.” 

Paul had told him about how the relationship between Emma and her brother-in-law had started out rocky, and seeing as how they were still in 2018, then this appeared to be the case. But Tom’s behavior over the course of the past twenty-four hours had definitely suggested otherwise. In spite of his own apprehension, and unwillingness to completely trust Emma, Tom _did_ care. 

Xander silenced his transponder and brought a hand to his head in slight exasperation, the guilt clear in his eyes in spite of his stoic expression. 

“You’re doing the right thing, Lee.” Professor Hidgens said, his eyes not comforting, but not condemning either. 

“I hope you’re right,” Xander sighed before beginning to rattle off more questions about the portal and convergence equations and more stuff John wouldn’t have possibly understood. 

He didn’t get the chance to understand because Ethan phased through the wall, pale as...well, a _ghost_ , waving his hand in front of him frantically. 

“Ethan,” John said patiently, “What happened? Why aren’t you trailing Lex and Hannah?”

Part of him wanted to scold Ethan for not keeping with their plan, but the look on the boy's face told John that something had gone wrong or something was amiss, so instead he settled on a calm, “What happened?” 

Ethan waved his hand around, “Uh...Lex...umm…”

John realized quickly that Ethan’s singular fingerless glove was missing. 

“What happened to the glove?” 

“See...um see, that's the thing…” Ethan stammered, a small grin on his face as disbelief and partial relief made its way onto his face, “ _Lex_ has it.”

John suddenly realized what he meant. Lex had _pulled_ the glove from the Black and White into her reality. 

“Lex is starting to realize her power?” 

Ethan nodded frantically, his grin growing wider. He stared down at his hand, holding his wrist gingerly like he didn’t want the hand itself to fall off. 

“B-Better yet…” Ethan said, giddiness and shock making its way into his voice, “She _held_ my hand.”

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, John let a large, genuine, happy smile crawl onto his face. 

They were going to be okay. 

\---

Becky didn’t like this. 

It was bad enough that they were given orders to let a patient seize as a means of remembering someone from their past life, but when that patient a) probably doesn’t like you, b) is getting progressively worse, c) is bleeding from her eyes, nose, and ears, and d) is your high-school sweetheart (who also just so happened to now be a widower)’s sister-in-law, things have the tendency to get a little messy. 

She’d been collecting a blood sample from the tiny vein on Emma’s hand (due to personal preference against getting blood from the elbow) when it happened. 

Emma hadn’t said much to her, probably still in shock from having Becky as her nurse, and Tom being involved, and probably just the whole situation overall, and had simply answered the questions Becky asked her as concisely as possible. Emma claimed she had a mild headache, which had been a side effect of her last seizure, it appeared, and asked for more painkillers, even though she’d taken a dose not two hours before. 

Part of her wanted to apologize to Emma. Even though everything was out of Becky’s control, she still felt guilty that PEIP was sanctioning _not doing anything_ about Emma’s condition, primarily because an old man told them there was nothing they could do. 

She’d just removed the needle from Emma’s hand and placed a small bandage on the site when Emma began to twitch again. It started out mildly but quickly morphing into full-body tremors associated only with noises of pain. Becky had called for assistance at the second Emma’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell back against the pillows of the hospital bed with a pained groan. The blood started flowing soon after, and was much darker than her last episode, this time coming from her ears as well. 

They’d managed to get her stabilized, adding electrodes to different parts of her head to monitor her brain activity...but Becky’s nerves weren’t calmed. She’d asked to monitor Emma and wipe the blood from her face as it flowed endlessly. She didn’t exactly know why she’d volunteered, but there was something about the case that made her feel like she needed to be responsible for the woman, regardless of whether or not she liked her.

She’d stayed in Emma’s room for about two hours, wiping the dark blood from her face before it could dry, and making observations on the brainwaves as the different colors danced their ways across the monitors, the patterns, unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was a little past noon when a small knock sounded at the door. 

She looked up and saw the aforementioned high school sweetheart. 

Tom looked awkward when he realized it was her like he had something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure how to say it. 

In a rare moment of impulse, she decided to take the initiative, “H-hi, Tom.”

She internally cursed at herself and the way her voice still stammered like she was that smitten high schooler all over again. 

“B-Becky…” he said, surprised to see her, “Mind if I come in?” 

She nodded and gestured to one of the chairs, standing as she did. Instead, he shook his head. 

“I can’t stay,” He said, “I heard she had another episode and I just wanted to check on…” he made a vague gesture at Emma, his face slightly flushed. 

“Uh yeah…” she said, feeling the jitters making their way into her veins. _Get it together, Becky_ , she chided herself as she nodded in a way she was certain resembled the way a horse bobs its head up and down. 

After a very long pause, Tom spoke up abruptly, “S-so...How’s Em-Emma?”

“She’s fine,” she said way too quickly, cringing inwardly at herself, “I mean...she’s not fine...I mean…” 

_Breathe Becky,_ she thought furiously at herself, _he’s just a person._

“She’s…” she sighed, “It’s hard to say...the seizure was worse than yesterday, and they’re happening a lot closer together...and now she’s bleeding from her ears.” 

_He’s just a person you once loved more than anyone else,_ her mind told her. 

She shoved the thought down as memories of their teenage years and much less complicated times rose in her brain. Times of happiness and laughter. Not grief and lies. 

Tom glanced over at Emma’s sleeping figure, muttering a curse under his breath. He looked slightly pale at the sight. She flinched and rushed back to clean the new blood from Emma’s face.

She cursed herself inwardly again. Where was her head today? She was a qualified nurse who’d _volunteered_ to take care of Emma. She didn’t have time to get so wrapped up in the ghosts of lost love. But still, in spite of how much they’d both changed, he was still _Tom._

“So…” she started, awkwardly trying to move past the silence that overtook the room, “She’s on track to wake up in a few hours if you want to check on her again.”

In spite of her internal joy at seeing Tom, she knew it was cruel...she was taking care of Emma...his now-dead wife’s little sister. 

It wasn’t fair to Jane for them to reunite like this, so soon after her death.

It wasn’t fair to Emma, who’d looked sick and shell-shocked at their brief reunion the day before.

It wasn’t fair to Tom’s _son_ , who she was sure was extremely young and didn’t know exactly what his father was doing and what his aunt was going through. 

Now they were both working at PEIP (the second time for him, apparently, and as a _captain_ ) and were probably going to have to see more and more of one another as Emma’s condition progressed. 

None of it was fair. 

None of what life had dealt them had been fair.

They were good people, weren’t they?

She didn’t think any of them deserved what had happened. 

Becky didn’t deserve to marry a monster like Stanley.

Jane didn’t deserve to die. 

Emma didn’t deserve to lose everything to have to find herself again. 

Tom didn’t deserve this grief (and guilt, she imagined).

Tom’s son didn’t deserve to lose a mother. 

Becky didn’t deserve doing what she had to do. 

She shuddered at the thoughts and pushed them away as Tom nodded. 

He turned on his heel and started out the door before hesitating and looking back, those big eyes she’d fallen in love with a long time ago glancing back at her gently. They may have been slightly clouded over by grief and anguish, but they were still his 

“Becky…” he said carefully, his voice filled with something she couldn’t quite identify. 

“Hmm?” she looked at him, meeting his eyes a little eagerly. 

“Thanks.”

With that he left the room, leaving Becky with the unconscious Emma and years worth of guilt. 

\---

_“Where are we going?” She asked him, as he turned down Redwood Trail, his eyes filled with something she didn’t quite understand._

_He smiled at her, not looking up from the road. It was the late afternoon in mid-autumn, so the sky was streaked with the golden glow of an early sunset. The red and brown hues of the trees had always been one of her favorite things during this time of year and she admired them as they drove past._

_His birthday had passed a week before and he was wearing the soft blue-grey sweater she’d gotten him. In his eyes, there was something of a melancholy reminiscence as they watched the road. She held her hand out over the center console, setting it gently on his thigh. He never flinched in surprise like he used to when they’d first started dating, as he’d gotten more and more comfortable with the physical contact they shared often._

_To think about it, neither of them had ever been really big on physical contact, but with each other it was different. It was a kind of comfort only the other could provide, and they reveled in it._

_“I want you to meet someone,” he said as he turned into a place she knew all-too-well._

_The Hatchetfield Cemetery._

_Why was he bringing them here?_

_She’d taken him to see Jane before. Maybe six months after they’d started dating when the anniversary of her death had passed. Jane had a nice little black granite stone near the front gates of the cemetery. Oftentimes, she would find flowers that Tom and Tim would leave every so often. She’d introduced him to Jane and cried. After that, they’d gone to his place and he’d let her cry for as long as she needed to._

_He drove slowly and deeply into the graveyard, some of the graves predating the town's establishment. As a teenager she’d loved to come here, walking past the graves and seeing which one was there the longest (Margaret Yvonne Powers, dead in the year 1798). Back then, she’d liked coming here, she’d loved seeing all of the different shapes and sizes of the graves, the faded names and dates. Sometimes she wondered what their lives would be like, and if she saw a family plot, she would wonder how each of the people were related. Now, the graveyard only reminded her of Jane. Jane and her failures as a sister._

_Eventually, he came to the back end of the park itself and stopped, pulled over to the side. In this small corner, there were several graves in this area backed up against the sporadic woods along the beachside-cliffs._

_As they got out of the car, he walked over to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, a gentle, intimate gesture that made her heart swell._

_They didn’t walk for very long until they came to a small granite tombstone in the shape of a heart. He let go of her and knelt down in front of it._ _  
__The words faded, but she could read them over the shadow of his body that was cast across the surface._

Martina Molly Matthews (nee Peterson)

Loving Mother and Wife

May 2nd, 1969- October 29th, 1995

_Oh._

_“Hey Mom.” he whispered with a wistful smile, brushing his fingers gently over the engraved words, “Sorry it’s been so long...things have just been so crazy...but I know you understand.”_

_She moved behind him and he looked up at her with a sad smile._

_“I’ve got someone...someone I really want you to meet, Mom.” he whispered, “Her name is Emma, and she’s...she’s freaking incredible...I know you would have liked her.”_

_Emma felt her heart clench at his words. He’d brought her here to introduce her to his mother._

_She’d known both of his parents, like hers, were dead._

_His Dad, she’d known, had been cruel to him growing up...he never explicitly said so, but she could tell from the way he’d flinch when someone (particularly male and physically bigger than him) would get loud, or when someone would raise his hand to give him a high five or raise their hand too abruptly. Since he had no siblings, she knew it had to be one of his parents._

_She’d eliminated his mother from the equation, though, when he spoke of her like she was the best person he’d ever known._

_They’d been curled up on his couch one night a few months after they’d started dating, looking for a movie or a show to watch when they found reruns of a show called_ Mork and Mindy. _She’d never heard of it, but when they came across it, his face contorted in a retrospective but melancholy smile. He’d then proceeded to tell her that his mother loved the show and would play old taped versions of it for him as a little kid. She still didn’t understand what the show was about (she later found that Robin Williams was an alien living amongst humans to learn about their behavior) but he’d looked so excited so she suggested they watched it. They then proceeded to laugh for the next few reruns of episodes as Robin Williams yelled at a mounted deer head and failed to understand exactly how humans in themselves function._

_Even though he didn’t say much about his mother that night, she could tell from his excitement alone that his father was the problem and not his mother._

_She’d known his mom died young, when he was eight years old- of breast cancer she was pretty sure. And if the tombstone was dated correctly, she’d only been_ twenty-six _when she died. And if he had been eight when that happened, then it was evident that she’d only been nineteen when he was born. Suddenly a whole lot of things made sense without him having to tell her explicitly. But she knew his family was a sore subject, and she didn’t want to pry._

_Now she was meeting his mother. His mother who'd still made him laugh and be happy in spite of her being long dead._

_He looked back up at her and gestured for him to join him in front of the stone._

_“Yeah, Mom,” he whispered, “This is Emma...and…” he hesitated on the next few words looking at her with a fondness in his eyes that made her heart melt._

_“And…” he went on, a smile on his face, tears welling in his eyes, “I love her very much.”_

_A tear fell from her eyes and she wiped it away. She tore her gaze away from him to face the stone._

_“Um…” she muttered, unsure of what to say, a sob was building in her throat as she looked at the words. This was his mother. The woman who’d been kind to him growing up. The woman who’d brought him into this world. The woman who’d loved him before anyone else and had given him to her, “Hi...Mrs. Matthews…”_

_He chuckled slightly and nodded at her._

_“Umm…” she stammered, a tear welling in her eyes, “It’s nice to finally meet you...Paul doesn’t say much about you...but I know you were good to him...and I know you love him.”_

_She looked at him. He smiled sadly at her, and she went on, “I guess...what I’m trying to say is...thank you…” she paused, choking up, “...for bringing your son into this world...for loving him...for making him the man he is today, even if he only had you for so brief a time.”_

_She was crying now. So was he._

_She couldn’t see it, but he was looking at her, his eyes wide and fond as the tears slipped down his cheeks._

_“Your son is the best thing that could have ever come out of my coming back to Hatchetfield...and…he’s loved me in ways no one else ever has...” she turned to look at him, moving a hand up to cup his cheek “He is one of the most incredible people I know and…”_

_She smiled wide and tears rolled down her cheeks as she realized the words she was about to say, “And I love him.”_

_She didn’t wait to see his reaction and turned back to the grave, “I know...a mother's love is different from a partner or a girlfriend’s love...but I swear to you...that I love your son_ so much _...and there wouldn’t be a chance for me to love him without you…”_

_“So…” she said, choking on the last two words as twin tears rolled down her cheeks, “Thank you for giving him to me.”_

_She leaned back and finally turned to look back at him._

_His face was red and his eyes were filled with tears, but the smile on his face was one of pure joy._

_He let out a wet laugh as more tears fell, which she echoed._

_He pulled her to him in a warm hug, tight and comforting. She burrowed her face into his warm shoulder, the softness of the sweater making her smile as it brushed against her face._

_“I love you…” he murmured, his voice muffled against her shoulder. The feeling of his tears against her hair making her cry harder._

_“I love you too.” she laughed as the tears continued to fall._

_She leaned back out of his arms with a sharp, wet laugh._

_“Look at us,” she croaked, wiping her eyes, “Crying and proclaiming our love in the graveyard like a bunch of saps.”_

_“Shut up,” he murmured playfully, pulling her back in for a deep kiss._

_She smiled into it and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair before she broke away with a laugh._

_“Really?” she chuckled, “In front of your mother?”_

_He rolled his eyes playfully with a small exasperated groan, “Oh she would have loved you.”_

_She smiled at him and wiped some of his tears from his face, “Hey…”_

_“Hmm?” he hummed in response, glancing back at his mother’s grave._

_“Thank you,” she murmured. He turned and faced her with a stunned expression on his face, “...really.”_

_He brushed his lips against hers in a sweet kiss with a smile, “Thank_ you _.”_

_She chuckled as he helped her stand. Her head hurt slightly, probably from stifling the tears but she ignored it._

_They walked back to the car, his arms around her shoulder._

_She was with him, and she was happy._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're on a path...but who knows what lies ahead?
> 
> I feel like I should also establish that just because I didn't write about Emma waking up, it doesn't mean that Emma's dead.  
> I repeat, Emma is not dead. 
> 
> All of these characters are so freaking precious and I love them.  
> I tried to resist adding more Paulkins fluff, but it had to happen.  
> ME? Crying while writing this? It's more likely than you think.   
> Also, can you tell how touch starved I am from reading this?
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments or leave kudos if you wish to do so!  
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all have a great day!! <3 <3
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	21. To a Hymn Called Faith and Misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self-care with Xander Lee.   
> Lex tries to process things.   
> Tom has an overdue and extremely awkward conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Holiday" by Green Day. 
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: PTSD, Parental/Sibling death, blood, hospitals,

Reset No. 6

Date: July 9th, 2020

Being Unknown

Xander woke up with a groan.

His neck was stiff and painful as he sat up the grogginess making itself at home. 

With a start, he realized he’d fallen asleep at his desk after hours of discussing matters with Hidgens regarding ways to fix the fabric of reality and reclaim his soulbond in the process.

He groaned again and wrenched his neck from side to side, the satisfying popping echoing in his ears. With a blurry glance at his watch, he found that it was two o’clock in the morning.

How long had he been asleep?

Part of him was angry with himself for falling asleep in his office (for the twenty-seventh time since he’d joined PEIP). This was mostly due to the fact that A) he’d fallen asleep in the office, which meant June was bound to be on his ass about it later, and B) he’d fallen asleep, to begin with. There were too many important things to focus on right now for him to be so lax about the office. 

His face felt like there were indents on his skin from sleeping on an open notebook and the newest scans from Emma’s case. Around five in the afternoon, he’d been notified that Emma had woken up from her previous seizure and was subjected to more scans as soon as she was able to walk, as her legs and arms were extremely stiff.

These new scans had developed an even darker shade of purple with what had once been royal blue shades turning into inky indigo, in addition to this, the anomalies had grown in size, expanding from the prefrontal cortex and the amygdala, showing up in the cerebellum and the occipital lobe. 

He knew Dr. Abadi was worried. Given how close together Emma’s seizures were becoming, and she’d only experienced two, she was worried Emma would proceed into a coma with the next one. If not going comatose, she could lose some of her motor function, which would make sense when one looked at how some of the anomalies were appearing in her cerebellum as well. 

He promptly decided to promptly return to his own residential quarters and take a shower before June found him and hounded him for his lack of sleep. 

Later, in his own shower, as the steaming hot water ran down his back, he was forced to think about the present situation. 

He knew this was wrong. Nothing about what they were doing felt morally right. 

Hidgens believed that if the world was going to potentially be fixed, then it rested on the shoulders of Emma, Hannah, and Lex. These women who’d wanted to live their lives normally and without much difficulty, and yet in a blink of an eye, everything had suddenly come to rest on their shoulders. 

Hannah knew what she had to do. Strangely, the eleven-year-old had been the most complicit in what she had to do, as well as the most knowledgeable on the situation, it seemed. Hidgens claimed that her ability to see into the Black and White and see what Webby wanted to show her, would help them locate the lost souls within the void once the portal (which they were still trying to make a plan to procure) was opened. The lost souls of course meaning John, Ethan, and Emma’s soulbond. 

Lex apparently had no idea what she was supposed to do and definitely put up the most resistance out of the three. Hidgens claimed she could reach into the Black and White and rematerialize it in the real world, which would allow for the three men to appear in the world once again. Hidgens had implied that this would happen regardless of whether Lex liked it or not. Xander, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. He knew Lex didn’t trust him, he didn’t expect her to. She’d lived her whole life being suspicious of people and fiercely protective of her sister. PEIP was no exception. Sure, she’d been amicable, but he could see in her eyes a form of defiance that reminded him of himself when he was younger...and in some ways it reminded him of the drawing of John. 

However, neither of the Foster sisters would be much help if Emma didn’t end up remembering everything. 

Since the meeting, he would spend every waking moment searching his memory, almost as if he was annoyingly refreshing a webpage waiting for new content, to see if Emma had fully remembered and the memories of John would come back to him. He knew there had to be memories. He still didn’t know the nature of his and John’s relationship, but if he had the memories he would know. It all came down to Emma remembering first, though. 

That was the primary source of his guilt. Physiologically speaking, Emma could potentially die if the seizures continued to get worse and worse. Every time he received a message from Kam, he’d held his breath, half expecting her to tell him that Emma was dead. 

It was risky, he knew. But still, she’d agreed.

The thought was exciting to him, but it was also sickening in a twisted sort of way. 

Regardless of Hidgens’ argument that there was no stopping the condition from progressing, he’d at the very least  _ hoped  _ she had a chance. She was a strong young woman with ambitions and dreams of her own, she didn’t deserve to lay her life down on the line to ensure that three complete strangers could return from a reality she probably wasn’t even sure existed. 

But...then again, they  _ weren’t  _ complete strangers. 

They were the partners of their souls...and those couldn’t possibly be completely unfamiliar. 

In some ways, he understood why she’d agreed. When Hannah had handed her the drawing of whatever her guy’s name was (Xander had started to call him Ben in his mind for some reason- which, he probably had a generic white-boy name like that) he’d recognized the exact expression on Emma’s face. 

It was a look of recognition.

A look that spoke volumes about how she felt about him. 

And he recognized it because he felt it reflected exactly how he felt every time he looked at his painting of John. 

So, at the end of the day, her choice made sense. She was willing to lay her life down in order to bring back that person. The person whose soul completed her own. In some strange way, she knew it had to be done, and she would do it. 

He wasn’t very similar to Emma in many ways, but he knew that he would have made the same choice if it was up to him. He would take every seizure, every drop of blood, every sensation of pain because regardless of how little he knew about John, he knew that was what needed to be done. 

He didn’t quite understand it, and somehow he felt he didn’t  _ need  _ to.

It wasn’t just a feeling. It was an instinct. 

An instinct to bring John back. 

And he would see it through, no matter the cost. 

As he got out of the shower, redressing himself in comfortable black sweats and a t-shirt, he looked back at the painting of John that he’d left on his nightstand. Those steely green eyes staring back at him with a resolute sort of defiance. 

That was his soulmate. 

He was a real person, and he was going to come back to Xander. 

With that thought, Xander smiled. 

\---

Lex hesitated in front of the door to the lab. 

She didn’t know exactly what she was planning to accomplish through being here. 

She’d left Hannah at the apartment, sitting in the corner sketching as  _ Chopped  _ played on the TV, which surprisingly also didn’t stress her out in spite of all the panic related to time constraints and wantons being left in the fryer. Lex hadn’t been happy leaving Hannah in the apartment again, but the girl didn’t seem to mind. 

She thought back to the last words she and Hannah exchanged before she’d left and locked the apartment doors shut. 

_ “Okay Banana, you know the drill, you don’t answer unlock the door for anyone except for me, okay? I’ll be back in a little bit okay?” _

_ Hannah had nodded with a knowing smile, “Go see him.”  _

She figured Hannah must have known where she was planning on going, what with her Black and White Clairvoyance and all. The thought sent an unpleasant shiver up her spine. 

Everything in her mind was telling her to turn around, that she didn’t need to see this guy. She still didn’t like him, but something was telling her that if she was even going to  _ begin  _ to understand what was happening, he was her best bet. 

She placed one of her hands in her pockets, her fingers brushing against the leather glove she’d taken with her. She’d been unable to part with it since Hannah had handed it to her. She didn’t understand why.

Under the assumption that it really did belong to Ethan...her supposed dead soulmate, had that been his hand she was holding? Was that why it had felt so natural and why it had taken so long for her to realize the hand didn’t belong to Hannah? If so, why was the glove left behind? What was she able to hold his hand when he was trapped in the Black and White? 

All of these questions were the only thing that kept her on the lab’s doorstep. 

PEIP had supplied a vacant lab for the weirdo professor from yesterday so that he could work on many things she knew she didn’t care about but should care about. Sure, she didn’t want the world to end, she just didn’t care about the science behind it and all of his batshit crazy ramblings. 

She didn’t have to like him. She just needed answers. 

Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand to knock before the door was opened hastily in front of her. 

Standing there was the turtleneck sweater-clad sicko. Professor Hidgens.

“Hello, Miss Foster,” He said genially, but his gaze was intense as if he knew exactly what she was there for. He probably did. 

“I take it you’ve been honing your abilities?” he asked, confirming Lex’s theory. 

“I want answers,” she said, trying to keep her voice even and free from the mild intimidation she felt, “And you’re the only one who can give them to me.”

“Very well,” he said calmly, “Would you like to come in?”

“No,” she said, trying very hard to avoid the way it came out as a squeak, “We can talk here.” 

He nodded in understanding, “What would you like to know?” 

She pulled the glove from her pocket and his eyes widened. 

“Yesterday morning, I was watching TV with my sister,” she explained, “I thought I was holding her hand until I realized the hand wasn’t Hannahs…” She trailed off as she realized how stupid she must have sounded. 

“...You pulled back and the glove was left behind with no indication that a person had been there?” the older man finished, a knowing look on his face. 

She nodded, “After I pulled back...Hannah picked it up and told me it was- y’know…” 

“Ethan’s?” He asked. 

“Y-yeah…” she stammered, “H...How can that be?” 

He smiled knowingly, “Two days ago I told you that you could reach into the Black and White, yes?” 

She stared down at her feet, not meeting his eyes, and nodded hesitantly. 

“Hmmm,” he mused, “You and your sister are both very powerful, Miss Foster-” 

“Yeah, you’ve said that!” she snapped suddenly, “I just want to know  _ how  _ I did it.” 

The old man chuckled and shook his head, “You do realize, Miss Foster, that your sister can see into the Black and White, but you can make it  _ tangible _ ?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” she demanded, already growing tired of the conversation. 

He sighed as if it were obvious, “To put it simply, Miss Foster-”

“Lex.” she corrected him. 

“To put it simply,  _ Lex, _ ” He corrected himself, “Hannah has the eyes and the ears of the Black and White, but you are able to actually touch it without suffering the repercussions most people would. 

“So...when you said I could pull things from the Black and White…” 

“I mean you can literally grab a hold of anything within the Black and White and pull it free,” He clarified, his eyes never leaving her as he went on, “That includes souls.” 

She looked up at him, “You mean…”

“Without you and your sister, we will never be able to free Ethan, John, and Emma’s bond.” He gravely whispered, “And our reality is as good as doomed.”

She looked back down at her feet. God, she needed a cigarette right now. 

“Why?” she asked, looking back up at him, “Why me and Hannah? Out of all the people in the world, why the two of us?” 

He shrugged with little concern, “I’m not sure....but I am certain that the two of you are the key to saving this reality from ruin.” 

Everything was coming at her so fast, she could barely process it. One day, you’re a stock girl at ToyZone, narrowly avoiding getting fired and getting hit by your mother, struggling to make ends meet, and the next you’re suddenly a person who’s capable of saving the world at seventeen with a clairvoyant sister and an undead greased-lightning soulmate trapped in the dimension outside the world she knew. 

Yep. Just another day in the fucked-up life of Lex Foster. 

“Shit.” she cursed, to which the old man nodded. 

“Shit indeed.”

As if reading her mind, he pulled a box of cigarettes out of his back pocket and offered her one.

In spite of her wishes to smoke growing desperately, she declined, still unsure of whether or not she could trust him. 

He’d shrugged at the rejection and pulled a single one out for himself before lighting it and taking a deep and lengthy drag. Had she not been off-put by the old man’s flair for the dramatics and his cryptic bullshit, she would have been impressed. 

“So…” she murmured, “What now?” 

He exhaled, the smoke exiting his mouth in a silver puff that was made to look even darker in the fluorescent lighting of the hallway. 

He sighed, “I hope you and your sister become ready to face the apocalypse...unless you’re willing to reconsider helping us get the soulbonds back?”

\---

Tom inhaled and exhaled sharply as he approached the Infirmary room door. Part of him was telling him to say ‘fuck it’ and turn around, getting back to Xander as they were supposed to go over his Aunts files and strategize how to best accomplish what they needed to. 

He’d not been able to come back to check on Emma yesterday since Tim needed to be picked up from the babysitters house and he’d already finished being debriefed by June. He’d not thought to check back in, a fact he’d internally cursed himself for. 

He didn’t necessarily want to visit Emma. He had to. 

He owed it to Tim to try to make things work. He owed it to Jane. 

He only hoped Emma felt the same. 

He’d been in a weird state since he’d seen Becky yesterday. It had been just his luck that his sister-in-law happened to be hospitalized at PEIP, a place he’d sworn he’d never return to (he still wasn’t quite sure why he’d actually agreed), and found that Becky was working there as well. 

The emotions that had run through his head when he saw Becky were conflicting. On one hand, he was extremely confused. He’d been sure that Becky was someone he’d never see again, and if he did, they would meet as mere acquaintances. What he hadn’t expected was to see her, and suddenly be that usually smooth teenager that was rendered mostly speechless at the sight of her. 

He tried not to think about Becky, Jane’s memory still very clear and very present. It didn’t seem right or feel right for him to acknowledge the high-school retrospect when he had something much more prominent and clear in his mind to mourn. The ghosts of high school past would have to wait for now. 

In a lapse of a moment and judgment, he made his decision and went to the door, opening it and knocking softly. 

There was no answer. 

_ Shit.  _ He prayed to himself that he wouldn’t walk in on Emma having another episode. 

As he went in the room, he half-expected to see his sister-in-law seizing and bleeding everywhere...instead he found her leaning almost completely off the hospital bed, trying not to stretch the electrodes on her head to the point of disconnection or pull on her IV, as she reached for a water bottle on a tray table that seemed to have rolled out of her reach. Had he not been so nervous about being here, he might have laughed or been reminded of that feral fifteen-year-old he tried to ignore in high school. 

“Need a hand?” he asked and she jumped up with a small squeak. 

As she realized who it was, her eyes widened and she straightened up a little bit. 

“T-Tom…” she stammered as she went a little paler than she already was from her condition, her voice shook, “Hey...uh, Becky’s not here so…”

He took note of the slight bitterness in her tone and shook his head, “I’m not here for Becky.” he said, moving closer to the bed. 

She seemed to misunderstand, “Um...then I...I uh, don’t know what-”

“I’m here to check on you, Emma.” He said, trying to make his voice sound genuine, in spite of the undertones of darkness.

Her dark eyes, darker than Janes had been, widened even more, surrounding her irises in near perfectly centered circles of white. Her mouth was open as she gaped at him, stammering for words, “Wh-what...why would you...why would you do that?”

Part of him was taken aback by her shock. What had he said to her at Jane’s funeral that made her  _ this  _ nervous? He didn’t remember, but judging from her reaction and the way she acted around him, he was sure it wasn’t good. 

He shifted uncomfortably on his toes, trying to think about what Jane would do. 

Jane was patient in all the ways he wasn’t and somehow she always knew what to say when things were awkward and messy like this. But Jane was gone and all that was left was him, Tim...and Emma, in some ways. 

He sighed and looked back at her, as she looked extremely confused, “Can I sit down?” 

“Um…” she looked to be in a daze of shock. “Sure, yeah...sure…”

He took a seat in the chair by the side of the bed, about three or four feet away from her, as he sat he noticed the way she was avoiding eye contact with him, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her. Clearly, neither of them knew what exactly to say. 

“I…” he started, unsure of how to put his words into use, “I came because you’re Jane’s sister...and whether you like it or not...you are family.” 

He looked at her to gauge her reaction and saw the shock only grow. They sat there in silence for a moment before she spoke again.

“So…” she murmured, clearly trying to find some way to begin a conversation, “How’s...Tim?” 

A part of him flared in bitterness. She hadn’t shown any way that she’d given a damn about Tim until after Jane died. He knew she’d been in Guatemala at the time, but at the very least she could have picked up a damn phone. In spite of all the bitterness and anger he wanted to feel towards her, he knew that she was trying here now...and the part of him that Jane had softened up knew that was what really mattered.

“Tim’s…” he paused. Did he really know how his son was? The only conversations he’d had with his son about his mother had been brief and mainly ended with an uncomfortable silence and mainly unfinished. 

“Tim’s fine,” He settled on, “He finished the school year alright… and he’s...yeah...he’s doing good.”

“Good,” she murmured, with an accompanying nod. She turned to him, a slightly hesitant look in her eyes, “Did...did he like his birthday gift?” 

Guilt flared in his chest. He’d hidden the gift out of spite and anger, not wanting to give her the time of day and not wanting to let her have anything to do with Tim. He’d still been very angry and lost at the time. He’d forgotten about it until Xander brought it up. 

He sighed guiltily and looked at her, “To tell you the truth, Emma,” he said before meeting her eyes, too tired to lie to her, “I haven’t given it to him yet.”

“Shit,” she cursed suddenly, her eyes wide, and for a moment he’d thought she’d lash out. But as the shock lapsed into panic, he realized she thought  _ she’d  _ done something wrong,“Did I get the day wrong? His birthday is May 15th, right? Oh God, I’m so-”

“No...no, Emma,” he said calmly, “You were right about the day...I just, haven’t given it to him…” 

Her eyes softened with disappointment, she looked down and fiddled with the blanket “Oh…”

He noticed then, how very similar to Jane’s her eyes were. They were darker than Janes had been, sure, but the way that one could see a great deal of complex emotion dancing underneath the blunt tiredness. 

He didn’t know what to say, the shame welling up in his chest as he looked at her. 

“Dick move on my part, if I’m being honest,” He said, not meeting her eyes. 

“N-No,” she muttered, very pointedly not looking at him, “It’s fine...I get it…”

“No...I mean,” he said with a humorless laugh, “What parent deprives his child of a birthday gift?” 

She didn’t answer and he tried to find ways to amend the conversation. 

_ Nice going, Houston,  _ he thought to himself,  _ She could be fucking dying and you just made her all the more miserable. _

“I mean…” she whispered suddenly, “I understand why…that part I get.”

“Still, I’m sure it was a great gift,” he said, trying to find words that could remedy his fuck-up, “If you don’t mind my asking, what was it?” 

She chuckled under her breath, but her face lacked any indication of humor, “It was uh...just a small pack of dinosaur figurines...I remember seeing him with a dinosaur stuffed animal on the last Christmas card so…” she trailed off as pain flashed across her gaze. He understood where the pain was coming from. 

The last Christmas card. The last picture she’d get of them being a happy family together. Jane had designed them and sent them out around Thanksgiving, in spite of Tom’s protests that December was the appropriate time to send Christmas cards. They’d even had a small argument about sending one to Emma all the way in Guatemala. Still, the fact that she was able to pick out that detail proved that Emma had been paying attention. 

He tried to lighten the mood again, “Oh, I’m sure he’d love those...He’s all into dinosaurs and robots and...all that...so...” he trailed off as she continued to stare at the bland blankets that covered the hospital bed. 

Silence enveloped between the two of them again and they avoided looking at one another. 

“So…” he said, trying to find another outlet for conversation, “How’re things…?” 

“Um…” she stammered, her voice quiet as she didn’t look at him, “I mean...I’m working at a coffee shop...and I’m going to community college so-”

“No...Emma, I mean…” he stumbled over the words, “How are  _ you _ ? You know...with all this?” 

She looked up at him again, her eyes wide as she comprehended the question, “Oh! Oh, you mean…?” 

He nodded, “Yeah...How are you handling…”

“Seizing all the time and not knowing whether or not I’ll wake up?” she said, a bitter chuckle in her choked voice, “All things considered...pretty good.”

He nodded along, trying to let her know that he was paying attention and trying to be a good relative. 

“I mean...it hurts…a  _ lot, _ ” She looked back down, “But the memories are nice...so that's good, I guess?” 

“The memories?” he asked, remembering what they’d said about Emma remembering her soulmate, a guy who’d never existed in this reset, if that loony old man was right. He’d slightly recalled Jane vocalizing her doubts about Emma ever finding someone who could keep up with her fiery nature and acid tongue. In spite of her short stature, he knew Jane’s little sister was a firecracker who would look at someone half her size, challenge them to a fight and  _ win.  _ The idea that she had a soulmate was something that he’d almost found laughable. 

But...she was worthy of happiness. So the idea wasn’t actually  _ that  _ out there. 

She nodded, “Yeah, for the most part, they’re happy.”

“What’s he like?” Tom asked, “Your soulmate...bond...thing?” 

She exhaled sharply through her nose, “Tom...I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I really do...but you don’t have to suddenly act like you can tolerate me because of what’s going on.” she said, a slight bitterness going through her voice. 

“I never said that,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. 

“Then why are you really here?” she said quickly, looking back up at him, and he could see tears brimming in her eyes, “What is it that you’re trying to do?” 

He inhaled and exhaled sharply, trying to maintain his patience in a way Jane could be proud of. 

“It’s like I said, Emma,” he said, his voice even, “You’re Jane’s sister and my son’s aunt. You’re family.” 

Her eyes widened again and she looked down at the covers again, wiping away the tears furiously and he sighed.

“ Xander came by my house, the day that he wanted to recruit me,” he said calmly, staring at the linoleum tile pattern beneath his work boot-clad feet since he still hadn’t gotten his hands on a proper PEIP uniform yet, “I think Tim must have overheard some of our conversation... because later...um...after I sent Lee away, he asked about you.” 

A tear rolled down her cheek as he went on, “He told me that he hoped you weren’t lonely...since Jane once told him you never found your people here…”

She leaned back against the pillows, an expression he couldn’t quite read marking her face and he continued as he looked back at the criss-cross patterns of his shoelaces, “And I had to make a choice…we could continue to be alone in our grief, and let you be alone...or we could try...to be...” he sighed on the words, “...A family.”

She exhaled sharply and he worried he’d made her cry, so he tried to rattle through his next few words quickly, “And I know...it’s hard right now for me to trust you and let you in...but, Tim deserves an aunt...and I guess having someone else to talk to about Jane doesn’t sound so bad…” 

He trailed off, trying to find anything else to look at other than her.

“So...Emma,” He said trying to get a handle on his words, “If we manage to stop the apocalypse...maybe we can all sit down and talk about Jane and...I don’t know, try to be a family?” 

She didn’t answer. He worried he’d said something wrong so he tried to prompt an answer.

“How does that sound?” 

More silence. 

He looked up and saw that Emma was facing away from him, curled in on herself.

“Emma?” 

Then she started to shake and muffled whimpers met his ears.

“Hey, c’mon, I thought you didn’t feel things?” He tried to joke, realizing how awful his timing was as a choked-off sob was his answer.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to-” he was cut off as Emma twitched. 

And then again. 

And then again. 

“Oh  _ shit _ ,” he cursed, suddenly realizing how rigid she was, and how stupid he’d been.

She was seizing again. 

He jumped up from his seat and tried to pull her out of her ball position when he was met by a sight that shook him to his core. 

They’d mentioned that she’d been bleeding from her eyes, nose, and ears, but he’d no idea that it would be like  _ this. _

Her blood was streaming down her cheeks in cascades that seemed to never end. Her eyes were rolled back as she continued to thrash and shake and she was making noises that indicated she was in an immense amount of pain, but that wasn’t the most concerning issue. 

Her blood was ink black. 

“Emma!” he shouted, trying so hard not to think of Jane as he tried to keep the much smaller woman still. 

“Tom what’s wrong?” a voice chimed into his mind.  _ Becky. _

“I-” he stammered for words, panic making him shake and making his words come out in dumb squeaks, “I don’t know.” 

“Mr. Houston,” another female voice said calmly but firmly, he was pretty sure it was the doctor from two days before, “Please go wait in the hallway.”

As if on autopilot, he obeyed, stepping out into the hallway. He steadied himself against the wall as he watched through the room windows as doctors and nurses scrambled around Emma. All sights and sounds were muted as he tried desperately to push the memories of Jane’s bleeding, mutilated body as he tried so hard to calm his weeping son. 

_ FLASH! _

_ The other car’s headlights appeared way too fast to the side.  _

_ BANG! _

_ The sound of metal scraping against metal and shattering glass. Tim screams in the back seat. Jane propelled forward and out the windshield, her seatbelt failing her, not even able to scream with how fast it happened.  _

_ Jane… _

A small hand on his arm interrupted his thoughts as he tried to get a hold on his thoughts and breathing. 

He looked down to see Lex’s sister.

What was she doing here? 

Where was Lex? 

“Okay?” she asked, looking up at him with big eyes. Something about the way she searched him was strangely calming. 

“Um…” he stammered, not sure how to explain the nature of a panic attack to a girl who couldn’t have been older than twelve, “I don’t know kid…”

“It’ll be okay,” she said sagely, looking through the window at the huddle of medical personnel surrounding Emma. He wasn’t so sure. 

“I hope so, Kid,” he mumbled, “I hope so.”

Guilt settled into his chest again. What if Emma died? What if just when he had gotten used to the idea of letting his sister-in-law into his son’s life, she was gone? What if Tim never got to have a relationship with his aunt? 

What if he never got to truly know the person who’d been the polar opposite of his wife, and yet shared the same genes? The person Jane had shared so many horror stories about and yet talked about with fond admiration. The person Jane had spent ages trying to get to come to family events and treated every email and postcard almost like it was a million-dollar bill. 

What if both Perkins sisters were gone before the world could tell who they were?

He didn’t know if he and the younger girl had been watching for five minutes or an hour. He couldn’t even really tell what was happening until Becky walked out of the room a vacant and sad look on her face.

“Beck…” he said, not recognizing his own voice as she turned to him, “How…”

Becky sighed, cutting him off, “Tom... I don’t know how to tell you this…” 

_ Oh God,  _ he thought mournfully,  _ She’s dead. I should have known, I should have been watching, I should have… _

“Tom, she’s in a coma.” Becky whispered, her eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite read, “She slipped into one mere _moments_ after she started seizing and we...” 

The rest of her words trailed into nothingness as something that wasn’t quite relief but wasn’t quite sadness filled his chest and he peered through the window again. 

At least she was alive. At least she had a chance. 

The little girl at his side turned up to Becky and murmured something under her breath. 

“What was that, Hannah?” Becky asked. Her sad voice was filled with some sense of calm cheeriness as she addressed the girl. 

He turned to look at them just in time to hear the girl whisper some of the most harrowing words he’d never thought he’d hear from a child.

“It’s time. Letting it in.” 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that was fun.   
> Where will they go from here?   
> No one knows (I mean, I know, but I like to be cryptic). 
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos to let me know what you think!! I really hope you liked this!!  
> I appreciate y'all and I hope you have a great day!!  
> THANKS FOR READING!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	22. Never Let them Take the Light Behind Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex starts to become more powerful.  
> Becky is trying to be a good nurse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name for this chapter comes from the song "The Light Behind Your Eyes" by My Chemical Romance  
> (This chapter takes place a little over a week after the last chapter btw- nine days to be exact)
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Sensory overloads, medical emergencies, AED usage

Reset No. 6

Date: July 18th, 2018

Being Unknown 

Lex sighed as she closed the door to the apartment. Her eyes felt like they’d been weighed down by several sandbags and her muscles felt exhausted. 

She stumbled to the couch and face planted on the couch with a groan. After a long day of training with Hidgens, she felt like the exhaustion alone was enough to convince her to take a nap that lasted forever. 

Hannah wouldn’t be home for another few hours. She’d decided to spend the day with Becky in the infirmary, with Emma, who’d been comatose for over a week. 

When Lex had heard about the woman slipping into a coma, she’d been overcome with something she couldn’t quite understand. 

She didn’t even know Emma that well, but the idea that the woman had fallen victim to the memories of someone she once loved...all so Lex, Hannah, Xander, and the rest of the world could regain their memories of their loved ones that had also been lost to the void that was the Black and White, it didn’t ring right with her. 

In spite of the Professor’s near-professional way of acknowledging Emma’s...state, and the way he’d known the inevitability of the situation, he’d looked saddened when he’d heard the news. It had come from Mr. Houston, who’d just made the decision to temporarily move onto the base with his young son mere hours after Emma’s collapse. They’d not been shocked, as they all knew what track it had been on from the inferences made by Dr. Abadi and Xander...and the cryptic sayings of the professor. 

She’d made the decision earlier that day to help them in their plan to reclaim Ethan and the other two. 

Since the glove incident over a week before, she’d often wondered about Ethan. The few context clues the professor and Hannah had given her, as well as the blurry image of him made her wonder what he was like. Obviously, he was probably a dumbass of a person with an interest in mechanics, judging from the remaining smell of motor oil on the glove, which somehow disgusted her and made her feel intrigued all the more. The professor said that the lingering scent of the oil had probably been preserved and was just now returning since it had rematerialized into the new reset. The dumbass part had come from the various knicks and cuts in the leather which had obviously come from tools of some kind. That had made her wonder if he’d taken shop with her at some point in the past resets.   
She tried to wonder what he looked like. From the wreck footage from over two weeks ago, she could tell he had dark hair and a tall frame, but other than that and the leather glove that was all she got. Part of her was fantasizing about it, another part of her knew it was creepy. 

She wished she knew more about him. But then again, all of that depended on Emma’s current state. 

As much as she wanted to remember Ethan, she knew that it could potentially come with the risk of Emma dying. A price she would never forgive herself for having inadvertently paid.

Hannah liked spending the day with Emma and “her completion” in the infirmary, keeping a resolute watch over the comatose woman. Lex had left that often up to Becky as to whether or not she wanted Hannah there, since she was Emma’s primary nurse (a fact, she suspected, that had something to do with the fact that Mr. Houston was definitely smitten with her). The redhead had happily agreed, saying that Hannah could serve as an excellent company for Emma. Not that Lex thought it mattered, but since she was accepting Hidgens’ help in ‘honing her gift’ (whatever the fuck that meant) she couldn’t just leave Hannah at the apartment all day. Especially since she’d managed to find her way to the infirmary anyway the first time she’d left her alone. 

At least Hannah had a place she _wanted_ to be. Lex could live with the fact that it was at the bedside of a comatose woman (and presumably her soulmate, whom Hannah claimed she could see). 

When Hannah wasn’t at home, or with Emma in the infirmary, she hung out with Mr. Houston’s son in the small rec center for the few kids that might have once lived on base. She never spoke much of the son, but he hadn’t actively bothered Hannah like so many other children had, and she’d even murmured something about Webby saying he was good, so Lex had no problem with it. 

So, Lex spent most of her time learning from Hidgens. PEIP had notified Frank that she wouldn’t be coming into work for a while as her presence was required by the government. Apparently, they’d served Frank with papers that had demanded she stay away from work for a while, but she still had to get paid. She imagined Frank didn’t like that (greedy bastard), but she was happy not to put up with the obnoxious customers and his diva-like self-importance for as long as she could. 

With a start, she realized she’d switched out the capitalist diva for the mad scientist diva. 

At least Hidgens didn’t know enough about her to make snide remarks about the state of her mother and how Hannah was a useless child who wasn’t going to go anywhere in life because she’d been dropped on her head as a baby. 

So, Lex decided that following Hidgens’ instruction was better than wandering aimlessly on the base (which was actually underground, she realized too late).

So far, they’d been working on connecting with the Black and White, sensing the presence of the entities within. 

She’d actually managed to accidentally feel Webby’s presence at one point while talking to Hannah over dinner. It had been cold...and sticky in a sense. Like she’d walked through a cobweb and was blindly trying to shake it off of her. She’d decided very quickly that Webby’s presence wasn’t one she wanted to sense ever again. 

As the weeks passed, she spent a great deal of time trying to familiarize herself and attune herself to sensing the souls she was going to try and free. 

Hidgens had described it as searching for a wall to hold onto in the dark, only the wall itself was the soul of someone who had previously existed. Because Hidgens had been touched by the energies of the Black and White, he could sense the souls of John, Ethan, and Emma’s guy to a certain extent, but he claimed that with her abilities she would be able to sense more. 

So, she’d spent the past week attuning herself to the cold and dark. 

With every moment she spent accessing the void she felt more and more determined to get Ethan and the others out of there. She couldn’t see it as Hannah could, but she could feel the emptiness and the cold that enveloped them. She didn’t want that for anyone...even three people who were supposed to have never existed. 

As she tried to fall asleep, drowsiness never came, which was a fucking cruel joke on the part of the universe. So instead, she decided to practice some more...that always effectively bored her to death and tiredness as waving your hands around aimlessly to feel the fabric of the universe has the tendency to get old really _really_ quick (especially when your overdramatic teacher is droning on and on in the background about energies and auras and all that shit).

She sat up on the couch with a groan. In the past few weeks, she’d been able to access it more and more. For the most part, it felt like stepping arms-first into a freezing cold pool (if that made any damn sense). 

As she extended her arms outward and stood, closing her eyes as she did (and praying she didn’t accidentally walk into the tiny coffee table), she wondered if she would find anything. Minus the unpleasant brush with Webby, she’d spent nearly every session just mindlessly wandering the Black and White. What she didn’t understand, was that Hannah claimed Ethan was still there, always with her...so why wasn’t she able to find him?

Hidgens believed it was because he’d actually died, unlike the other two, and had been in the Black and White the longest. He also claimed that she wasn’t completely _in_ the Black and White completely to be able to sense his presence. But still, if parts of her soul were in his, then it should be easy, right? Wrong. The past week had had no sense of Ethan. Just feeling freezing cold as she waved her arms around like a kid searching for a pinata with a baseball bat. 

Ice made its way into her veins as she waded into the sea of blackness that she couldn’t see. The energy was powerful, that much she knew. She wasn’t an expert on it like Hidgens or Hannah, but she could tell that this sort of thing was most definitely not something she should fuck around with. 

That being said, she probably shouldn’t be practicing alone with it. 

Still, she had nothing else to do and if she had to watch one more person go on an ego trip as they were desperate for some monetary amount that the food network just _happened_ to have laying around, she was going to lose it. 

This was better and actually productive.

Ugh...she was willingly being productive? What the hell was up with her? 

As she waved her hands around in the coldness and the numbness, she tried to think about what Hidgens had instructed her on. 

_“You’ll know when you find their souls, Lex,” he said, watching her as she extended her arms in front of him, “Obviously you won’t be able to effectively pull them out of the Black and White and re-materialize them until we have a portal open, but when you locate their souls in the Black and White, you’ll know.”_

_“How?” she asked, fighting the urge to open her eyes and roll them at his antics, “And I was able to get that glove without a portal...so why do we need that?”_

_“A glove and a person are completely different things” The old man sighed, “Just...think of their souls as a beacon...when you sense them, you’re drawn to them...you’ll know.”_

She’d scoffed at the idea...but then again, everything about this situation seemed preposterous and she was unsure of what to make of it completely. 

Part of her was convinced she’d wake up the next morning in that shitty trailer and go to work with Frank like none of it had happened. But she continued to wake up in that apartment with Hannah, safely away from their mother, and in the arms of a government organization that she wasn’t entirely sure she could trust.

She still liked Becky, even if she was working for a shady organization, and Mr. Houston was okay (even if he’d been reinstated as a Captain a week before), but she still wasn’t sure about Colonel Schaeffer or Major Lee. The man seemed nice enough, but his vague sayings and avoidance of direct questions irked her. Schaeffer was just scary. All business and no warmth or discernable personality traits. 

She sighed, ready to give up as the cold cut down into her bones when suddenly she felt something...like a slight spot of warmth. 

Almost like finding a warm spot on the pavement with your bare feet while the rest of the cement is cold. 

She turned towards it, trying to be mindful of the coffee table and other meager living room furniture that PEIP had loaned to them with the apartment and found more warmth- a beautiful contrast to the brutal chill of the void. 

“Are you here?” she whispered as the warmth grew more and more, almost enveloping her in a strange sense of familiarity. 

The sensation reminded her of a warm hug- which was something she’d not known that well throughout the course of her life, so why was she able to recognize it now?

The warmth grew and swelled around her, reminding her of beautiful colors and brightness that she never knew she could understand. In her vision shrouded over by her eyelids, she could see flashes of green and gold- very minor, but she knew whose soul she’d located. 

“Ethan…?” she called out, the name suddenly sounding like one she’d yelled out a million times like it was a language she had always spoken fluently. 

If she could sense the energies of the Black and White growing positive and happy, the warmth seemed to do just that, filling her with a sense of joy and recognition she couldn’t understand. She still had no memories of him, but she knew definitively that it was him.

She couldn’t explain it, but she knew. 

She held her arms out again, trying to know him, to familiarize herself with the warmth and affection that she felt overtake her. Hidgens had been right about it being a beacon. She didn’t want to go back to the cold and dark again, she just wanted to know him. 

She was so wrapped up in the joy of finally coming into contact with him, that she almost didn’t register the body wrapping her into a warm hug. 

She didn’t dare open her eyes, even as she gasped at the realization. Rather, she wrapped her arms around him, knowing it to be him. 

The texture of his leather Jacket against her arms was solid like she was holding a real person. She let out a shuddering breath as she pulled him closer to her, the texture familiar to her in spite of her inability to remember. She could feel him stoop down slightly, his curly hair tickling her neck.

She couldn’t hear him, but the rise and fall of his back in shuddering breaths indicated that he was crying. She held him closer, bringing a hand up to run through his curly hair, an action he seemed to melt in. 

“Ethan?” She whispered again, her eyes still squeezed shut in her disbelief. 

He nodded vehemently against her shoulder and she registered the warmth of tears against her shirt. A shuddering breath left her, she couldn’t even remember him and yet being held by him was one of the most fantastic forms of comfort she could ever imagine. 

“I can’t hear you…” she whispered, breath leaving her quickly, “And I don’t remember you...but I will…I promise.”

He nodded against her shoulder again, holding her tighter. 

She should have been off-put by hugging the ghost form of her undead soulmate from another life because she could find his soul in the darkness of the void with some ability she didn’t understand. She should have been off-put by the fact that she was hugging someone she couldn’t even remember. But, for whatever odd reason, she wasn’t. 

He was familiar. She felt like she was visiting an old place she’d loved in a life she couldn’t remember (which would have accurately described the situation). She felt like this was a sense of memory she could reach out and touch if she tried hard enough

He was home in a sense. 

She felt safe. 

She started to feel woozy with the amount of energy she was spending hugging him, so she hugged him tighter. 

“I can’t hold this for much longer…” she whispered. He nodded, loosening his hold on her, but she wouldn’t let him pull back. 

“I promise, I’ll do this again...and we will get you out of there, okay?” 

She felt a hand cup her cheek and stroke the space under her eye gently with a thumb in an affirmative. 

With that he was gone, leaving Lex in the real world. 

No cold oblivion. 

No warm familiarity. 

Just real life.

As Lex stumbled to sit down on the couch, she could barely process what had happened. She had not really believed the situation in its entirety, but now...she had a tangible source of evidence that went beyond an interdimensional glove. 

She felt exhausted and spent with as much energy as she’d harnessed. Having accomplished her goal of wearing herself out, she slipped into a blissful sleep, met with dreams of warmth and familiarity. 

And she was all the more determined to feel that warmth in real life. 

She would get them out. 

\---

  
_She was met by a blast of chilly air as he opened the door for her, exiting the Silver Sage Roadhouse after their third date._

_It was a Friday night and they’d gotten messy and greasy burgers and shared large order curly fries whilst complaining about coworkers and the stresses of that week. They’d already been on two dates in the weeks before, but this was easily her favorite._

_Both of them were a little buzzed after each drinking two beers (both of them could get buzzed really easily- him, not being able to hold his liquor very well and her, because of her short stature), but luckily their homes were walking distance from the bar and they both could still see straight and have the wits to make it home okay._

_What they hadn’t expected when they’d both walked to the restaurant that also functioned as a bar, was that it was going to rain later that night._

_As they made the way through the doors and were met with the onslaught of cool rain droplets. She cursed slightly as the cold water met her skin._

_“Oh man!” she laughed, retreating backward slightly into the thin space where the Bar’s roof provided some coverage. He laughed and moved back with her, his eyes wide with the sudden cool air._

_“Should we call an uber or something?” he asked, looking at her small frame as she steadied herself against a wall._

_She shook her head, “Nah, my apartment is two blocks away…”_

_“Oh,” he said with a nod before breaking out in the cheekiest grin, “You won’t melt?”_

_Her laugh was loud and barking and made him flinch slightly, “No…” she smiled in between giggles, “Contrary to popular belief...bitches don’t melt…”_

_“I thought it was witches?” he said with a grin._

_“Same thing…” she shrugged, chuckling at her own joke, “Wish I’d brought an umbrella, though.”_

_He nodded._

_They both knew the weather service in Hatchetfield was shit and the weather patterns themselves were completely irregular. For all the citizens knew, they could have walked into work on a warm June day and go home in a blizzard. Regardless, it was no fault of their own that they didn’t know whether to bring an umbrella or not._

_“So…” he said, shifting uncomfortably, “Would it be okay if I walked you home?”_

_She smiled, “Yeah...Yes, it would.”_

_He smiled in something that was close to relief, but also close to genuine happiness she’d never thought_ she _could instill in a person._

_He removed his jacket and held it over his head like a makeshift umbrella, moving it over her to cover her from the rain._

_She smirked. This guy was such an adorable dork._

_Wrapping a hand around his waist to keep him close to her (only because she wanted him to be shielded from the rain as well, and definitely NOT because she liked the way he felt with her arms around his waist) and the action seemed to make him pause and go rigid. His blue eyes that she’d found so cute were blown wide and she worried she’d done something wrong._

_“Sorry…was that..?” she let go, trying to remedy any discomfort she might have caused, “Sorry.”_

_“Hm? Oh!” He stammered suddenly, his eyes snapping out of his haze of shock “Oh no, you’re fine!”_

_She chuckled lightly and gently moved back to take her place._

_With that, they began the short walk back to her apartment building._

_She’d known on that first date to that small sandwich shop that he was different from her previous boyfriends and one-night-stands._

_He was sincere and listened in ways that other guys hadn’t. Classically handsome and charming, and yet moved with the awkwardness of a newborn deer. He reminded her more of someone Jane would have wanted to date rather than someone she’d see herself with. Still, this fucking nerd had made himself a home in her heart...not that she’d ever admit it to herself or anyone else._

_They didn’t say much on the walk, aside from Emma giving him slight directions as to where to turn, and almost too soon, they came to her apartment building._

_As she fumbled for her keys, he shifted awkwardly behind her, as if unsure of what to do._

_“So…” he murmured, looking down slightly._

_“So…?” she echoed, quirking an eyebrow, not sure if she really wanted him to say goodbye._

_“So, I’ll see you at Beanies on Monday?” he asked, his face cracked into a slight smile._

_“I suppose,” she said, moving away from the door to stand in front of him. She stopped less than a foot in front of him and was craning her neck upwards to look at his stupid face. The face she’d grown to like very much._

_“Em...Emma?” he stammered a clear question in his eyes._

_“Hmm?” she hummed in response, knowing where it was about to go._

_“W-would it... be okay…” he said, his hands tapping against his legs at his sides, “And you can say no...if you don’t want to...but would it be okay if I-”_

_She cut him off with a kiss, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling herself up to meet his lips sweetly. He went rigid once again and his eyes went wide. After a while, she felt him start to melt into the kiss, relaxing into her touch._

_As they both morphed into it more, her arms wrapped comfortably around his neck, her fingers making themself at home in his damp hair._

_He’d forgotten all about the jacket he was holding as it slumped onto the wet pavement while his hands came up to hold her waist gently._

_She hummed happily into the kiss as they broke apart. It hadn’t been overly passionate or romantic, just sweet and simple...and she loved it._

_When they pulled back, his eyes were still closed and a dorky grin had settled on his lips._

Fucking nerd. 

_“W-wow…” he whispered as his eyes opened._

_“Does that answer your question?” she asked, smirking at the shell-shocked man in front of her._

_“Y-Yeah…” he said, stumbling over his words, his blush illuminated in the crappy porch light of her apartment building._

_“You need me to clarify, dork?” she asked, craving another kiss after how perfect the first one had been._

_“I mean…” he stammered, his face growing darker, “If you want to…”_

_She smiled and pulled him down to meet her lips again, her fingers knitting into his wet hair. He melted into it quicker this time, one of his hands settling on her lower back while the other cupped her jaw gently, providing a source of warmth to her cool skin as it continued to get soaked in the rain._

_She couldn’t tell if they’d been standing like that for ten minutes or ten seconds before they broke apart to breathe._

_As soon as she caught her breath, she pulled him back in and deepened the kiss almost instantly as the rain still came down around them, soaking them both to the bone. He gasped as she deepened it, but smiled against her lips as he reciprocated, the kiss growing more passionate by the second._

_They broke apart again._

_“Emma…” He whispered, his eyes caught in a daze she could have giggled at._

_“Paul…” she murmured, knowing exactly what she wanted to do, “The rain’s getting harder...”_

_It wasn’t but it was a good excuse. He nodded all the same._

_“Would you…” she hesitated, not wanting to scare him off, “Would you like to come inside?”_

_His eyes widened and his face flushed bright red again in a way she found adorable, but she stammered over her next words in a way that confused her. She_ never _stammered over her words with a guy...but he just wasn’t any guy...was he?_

_“And- I mean, it’s totally fine if you don’t...it’s just cold and your house is a little far and-”_

_“Okay…” he whispered, his eyes blown wide with shock._

_“Okay?” she asked, looking up at him with her eyes wide, “Because I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything…”_

_“N-no, Emma,” he said, his face growing red, “I-I would love to…”_

_“Okay,” she said with a nod. Why was she suddenly so nervous?_

_“Okay,” he grinned, his eyes growing dark in a way that made her smile more._

_“Okay,” she confirmed as she led him towards the apartment door and unlocked it, ready to lead him back up to her apartment._

_Needless to say, the night (and the following morning) ended up being more than just ‘okay’ for them both._

_\---_

After over a week of watching Emma, Becky was starting to lose a little bit of hope. 

She’d seen comatose patients before. She knew they could be in comas for months on end and still be okay...but not the same.

Regardless, she was stressed. Between Emma’s blood being black and her going into a coma mere moments after seizing, she was worried she would have to resuscitate Emma at any moment. The fact that they’d already given Emma a breathing tube was not something that gave her confidence. 

She wondered what would happen if Emma were to die. 

Yes, they would all supposedly regain their memories of the people lost in the Black and White, and yes, they’d be able to pull the three out…but Emma’s soulbond would be coming home to a dead bond partner. She didn’t even know the guy, but the notion of experiencing that grief was enough to make her feel sick. Nobody deserved to experience having that joy and completion taken from them. 

When Tom had joined PEIP, everyone apparently believed the lie that he was joining the military...going on to do two tours in Iraq. Before she met Stanley, she was worried sick that she would stumble across news of his death. Even after she got married, she worried that she’d find out that Tom had been killed. 

When he came back and married Jane, she’d still felt some semblance of grief...a grief she couldn’t necessarily explain. 

Now, she was seeing him more often, especially since he came by to visit with Emma, even though she was unconscious, often. He would check up on her, say a few things, and return to the strategizing process with Xander and June. Occasionally they would exchange awkward words, but they didn’t speak much. She was okay with this since Jane’s death had not been that long ago and her sister could be dying right there. 

Talking with him in the ways she longed to would have been inappropriate for the situation. 

It got even weirder when he started bringing his and Jane’s son to visit Emma with him. 

Her heart had melted with joy at seeing the boy...it wasn’t bitterness or anything. She just was made instantly happy by the boy's young livelihood and exuberance. 

He couldn’t have been older than nine or younger than seven, but he reminded her so much of Tom (especially when he was a teenager). In spite of his having Jane’s eyes, everything else was so inherently Tom. Though she’d never met him formally, she’d learned his name was Tim (which definitely had to be Jane’s idea) and she’d smiled every time he was brought in to see Emma. 

It seemed a lot of children liked to visit Emma. 

When Hannah had told her she wanted to spend time with Emma, even though she was comatose, she’d said yes. 

She figured that maybe the little girl's presence could ease some of the tension that characterized the sickbay. Hannah often sat in the corner, sketching on that same legal pad and murmuring things to herself. 

Sometimes, when Tom and Tim would come back, Tim would invite her to play with him in the rec center. It took a few times, but there were occasions where Hannah accepted. She was happy that the girl was able to occupy her time with something while Lex worked with the professor, even if it was in the infirmary. 

“What’re you drawing over there, Hannah?” she asked, as she drew blood from Emma’s IV.

The little girl shrugged and looked at the wall. Becky smiled and focused on her work. Hannah liked to say that she wasn’t just keeping Emma company, she was also keeping ‘him’ company. Becky knew she meant Emma’s soulbond, but she never really acknowledged it much beyond that. 

The idea that someone trapped in the Black and White was there, watching them work around Emma, was slightly unnerving. She never vocalized this, as she didn’t want to upset Hannah, but it still made her feel like she was always doing something wrong. 

As she withdrew the collection tube from the IV and sealed it off again, she heard a small knock at the door.   
She whirled around and there was Tom, smiling sheepishly at her as he moved quietly into the room, his son beside him. Her heart clenched at his dopey grin, the hesitation clear in his eyes.

“Hey Becky,” He whispered, “Is it okay if we visit her?” 

She looked at Hannah with a smile, “What do you think, Hannah?” 

The little girl looked at the wall with a questioning look. She presumed she was waiting for Emma’s bond’s approval.

After a moment she turned back with a smile, “He says it’s okay.”

Becky turned to the two, “Yes, of course, please come in.”

Tom smiled slightly and led Tim into the room. The younger boy smiled and nodded at Hannah, as if happy to see she was there again, staying with his aunt. 

“Oh, Becky,” Tom said suddenly, his eyes widening, “Have I introduced you to my son?”

She smiled slightly and looked to the small boy, “No, I don’t believe you have.”

Tom smiled and looked at his son, “Becky, this is Tim...Tim...this is…”

He looked up at her as if unsure of what to say, she decided to take the initiative once again and introduce herself. 

“I’m nurse Becky,” she said gently, holding out a hand for him to shake, “I knew your mom and dad in high school.”

She figured that was the appropriate route to take as the boy smiled, “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Becky…” he trailed off as he looked at Emma and then back up at her with a grateful smile, “Thank you for taking care of my Aunt Emma.”

She nodded, “It’s what I’m here for.” 

“How is she, Beck?” Tom asked as Tim started to walk towards Emma, holding out a small plastic dinosaur he had in his hands. 

She inhaled and exhaled, “She’s the same as she was yesterday, Tom. We don’t know when she’s gonna wake up, or…” She trailed off, not wanting to say it. 

“Or what?” he asked, looking down at her with a sad look in his eyes, “You mean ‘if’?” 

“I never said that…” she whispered, looking back at Hannah who was watching her and Tom talk intently, “She could very well be on the road to waking up and we wouldn’t know it.”

She looked over at Tim, who was chirping away happily to Emma as if he was trying to ignore the fact that she was comatose. 

“...and me and dad finished moving onto the base for a little bit,” he was saying, “He says it’s so we can be here when you wake up...and then I can tell you how much I love these figurines when you’re awake! I really do love them, by the way.” 

He held out the small velociraptor in his hands, “I decided to name this one ‘Emma',” he said proudly, earning a chuckle from Tom, “Mom used to say you were small and tough and smart, and I think it suits you well…” the boy trailed off and he looked at Hannah. 

“Does Webby think Emma is a good name for the raptor?” he asked her, to which the girl smiled and nodded, earning an even bigger grin from Tim, “See, Aunt Emma? Webby thinks so, and my friend Hannah says that Webby’s right about everything, so there’s-”

The boy was cut off by an excruciatingly loud shriek of a heart monitor. 

Becky threw her eyes to the monitor and was met by a shockingly straight line. 

Emma had flatlined. 

Instantaneously, she sprang into action and told Tom to get Tim away from Emma as she moved to grab the AED from the corner. 

Becky called for Nurse Chapel in the hallway and told her to start administering compressions while she pulled open Emma’s hospital gown and placed the pads in the appropriate anterior lateral regions, the cords still connected to the AED. 

Hannah, all the while, was covering her ears and whimpering as she stared at the wall, murmuring “she’ll be okay” to the wall over and over again. Somehow, Becky knew that the comforting saying wasn’t meant for Hannah herself. She could only hope that the girl was right. 

Tim was confused and shaking, his eyes wide as he scrambled in Tom’s strong and powerful hold. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed at his father's broad arms, his brown eyes big and filling with tears. 

As Nurse Chapel administered compressions, she called out “charging” to the people in the room as the whine of the AED reaching 200 volts echoed in her ears. She’d done this a thousand times, and she worked like she was on autopilot. 

“Clear!” she called out, and Nurse Chapel retreated.

With that, she pressed the buttons on the AED and watched as Emma’s body lurched upwards as the shock was administered, making Tim and Hannah both whimper. 

Immediately, Nurse Chapel began to administer rescue compressions and Becky saw that the heart monitor had started to show the steady peaks and valleys of a heartbeat restored. She sighed and turned the AED off. Nurse Chapel checked for the steady pulse and removed the cords from the pads, fixing Emma’s gown as she turned back to Tom and Tim, who was crying lightly into his father’s hip. 

“We got her back,” she whispered, “She’s okay.”

“Hey,” Tom whispered, kneeling down to take his son into a hug, “Auntie Emma’s okay, Nurse Becky got her back...she’s okay, buddy.” 

Tim sniffed and looked up at Becky wiping his eyes with clenched fists, “S’okay? 

She nodded and knelt down in front of him, “You said your Aunt Emma’s like a velociraptor right?” 

At this the boy nodded tearfully, holding the plastic figure close to his flannel-clad chest.

“Well…” she said, hoping she wasn’t wrong, “You were right...your aunt is like a velociraptor…” she trailed off. She didn’t know much about dinosaurs, she could only hope her next few words were right. 

“Your aunt is strong, smart, and brave….” she said, her voice as comforting as she could make it, “And if anyone can get through this, it’s her.”

The boy nodded and smiled slightly, “Can I still talk to her?” he asked, his eyes puffy and filled with tears. His small voice cracked with emotion and it made her heart melt. 

She nodded, “Of course.”

With that, Tom, who was still wide-eyed from the shock nudged his son towards the bed, and they both took their places beside Emma, still unconscious, quietly talking to her. 

Becky smiled at the sight and turned her gaze on Hannah, who was curled up into a ball against the wall, legal pad and pen abandoned. 

She moved over and sat next to her, “Hannah?” she asked. 

The girl flinched and looked up, her eyes wide and scared. 

“Are you okay?” 

The girl said nothing, she only shook her head. Becky figured the loud noises had been too much for the girl to handle, and she’d overloaded on all the sensory information. She tried to keep her questions minimal and quiet, so she didn’t do anything to upset the girl further. 

“Do you want to go back to your apartment?” she asked gently. 

The girl shook her head and pulled her yellow flannel over her head. Becky scooted away, not wanting to crowd her or overwhelm her. 

She looked up at Tom and Tim and gestured to them to be slightly quieter, as Hannah needed quiet to recover. She only prayed more alarms wouldn’t go off. 

“Okay.” Hannah whispered, looking up at her, still shaking, her hands patting against her knees in a beat Becky didn’t quite get “Need to stay.”

“Did Webby tell you to?” she asked gently.

Hannah hesitated but then nodded.

“Hannah, you don’t need to stay if you don’t want to.”

The girl looked at her with widened eyes, as if Becky had said something blasphemous. She shook her head, “Want Lexi.”

Becky nodded, and stepped out into the hallway, going to the nurse's station as Nurse Chapel was updating Emma’s chart. She picked up the phone and was answered by a very groggy Lex. 

“ _Mmm...hello?_ ” she sounded like she’d just woken up from a nap.

“Hey, Lex, I was wondering if you could come and be with Hannah?” 

“ _Why?_ ” Lex suddenly sounded very awake, “ _What happened?_ ” 

“Emma flatlined a few minutes ago, we got her back quickly, but the alarms and commotion overwhelmed Hannah, she said she wants you,” Becky explained quickly and professionally, still keeping an eye on the girl through the open door to Emma’s room. 

“ _Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can._ ” 

With that, Lex hung up and Becky sighed, feeling slightly useless. 

When Emma flatlined, Hannah had kept muttering that she would be okay. 

She only hoped that she could prove the girl right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that was a ride. That is all I have to say. 
> 
> My writing process:  
> Me: Here's some Lexthan fluff :)  
> Me: Here's some Paulkins fluff and implied fun times ;)  
> Also me: And here's some angst >:)
> 
> Bonus:  
> Becky, at some point probably: Get rid of the longing...we can't let people know we YEARN!!!
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you would like!!! I hope you have a great day!!  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoiding Sleep


	23. You Are the Silence in Between What I Thought and What I Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As John surveys a briefing, it is revealed that Hidgens and Xander share a brain cell that wasn't in use until now, and he receives an unwelcome visitor.  
> Emma's still floating in a void of lost memory.  
> Paul's trying so hard not to lose it (someone hug him).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "No Light, No Light" by Florence and the Machine (which apparently is a very common Paulkins song)
> 
> (Note: This chapter takes place a little over a week after the last one...more time jumps!! Yay!!)

Reset No. 6

Date: July 30th, 2018

Being Unknown 

John had followed through on his mission well enough for the most part. 

He spent every moment he could with Xander, following him to every debriefing and every planning session he’d had with Hidgens. 

Since the reveal over two weeks before, the old man had proven himself to be quite useful in procuring a portal for them to use. Still, there was a matter of the convergence equations and the matter of Emma’s state that bore heavily on the situation. 

He’d seen much of both Ethan and Paul, seeing as how Xander had often supervised Hidgens’ lessons with Lex since Emma’s first flatline a week before. He’d also paid visits to the infirmary to get updates on Emma’s condition from Becky and Dr. Abadi, checking in on what scans and diagnostic imaging they could get from the comatose woman. 

Ethan was growing antsier and antsier to get out of there. In one of the few times he and Ethan’s paths had crossed, Ethan had told him happily about the occasion in which Lex had reached into the Black and White and had hugged him. At first, John didn’t believe it, but when Lex had repeated the story near verbatim to Hidgens and Xander mere moments later, he found himself holding on to some valid hope.

Paul, on the other hand, had grown all the more miserable. 

Since she’d first flatlined over a week before, Emma had flatlined two more times, each one leading Xander to fear for her life more and more. They’d been able to resuscitate Emma each time, but the strain had clearly taken its toll on both Emma and Paul. Every time he saw them, Paul managed to look more nervous and depressed, while Emma looked more sickly. Had it not been for the monitors signaling so, he would have thought the woman was dead. Still, she’d been saved every time and was still in a comatose state. 

Hidgens had claimed that they were nearing the point where she could potentially wake up and allow the memories of the people from the past reset to return, and while John was partially anxious to be remembered, there was still the risk that it might come at the price of Emma’s life. 

John hoped with all his might it wouldn’t come to this. 

Tom Houston had stepped up as a Captain, since returning, organizing what he could and preparing what he could in the pursuit of the mission. The time frame was shaky since it depended mainly on Emma waking up and the functionality of the portal in order to pull the three of them out. 

At least Lex and Hannah had agreed to go through with the mission, utilizing their abilities to the fullest in order to benefit the mission overall. John knew Xander was guilty for the main role falling on the shoulders of the two girls who were still very much _children._

Still, they were the best chance at keeping Hatchetfield out of the reaches of the forces of the Black and White. They were the best chance at keeping Hatchetfield from being subjected to an eternal state of hell. 

So, no matter how guilty it made him, they would have to allow it to proceed. 

The reality depended on it. 

So, there he was, watching another strategizing session, featuring Xander, Hidgens, June, and Tom, all of them looking exhausted as they discussed the plans for the future weeks. 

“The portal is near completion,” Xander was saying, “All of the parts have been transported successfully from Dr. Hidgens’ facility, and have almost been completely assembled. All we need is the convergence equation and then we can begin testing.” 

Hidgens nodded, “Lex and Hannah are both prepared well... and after Lex managed to hug Ethan..." he trailed off, something wistful mixed with pride in his expression, "I’m sure they’re both ready.”

Tom shifted, “And you’re sure this can do nothing to hurt them?” 

Hidgens nodded, “Lex usually feels tired after using her powers for too long, but she’d managed to get a handle on it pretty well. I think we should space the retrievals out a little bit in order to allow her to collect herself after each so she doesn’t exhaust herself too much. I mean, she _is_ pulling souls out of the Black and White and re-materializing them in this reality.”

Xander nodded, “How much time do you think she’ll need?” 

“I would say an hour at least,” Hidgens said, his eyes tired, “Also, it gives us some time before we proceed with the next one to analyze any interdimensional damage or prevent any of the beings from passing through.”

June raised her hand, “Xander, where are you in the process of developing the equation for convergence?”

Xander sighed, “No such luck. Hidgens doesn’t remember it, and...well interdimensional conversion wasn’t something I learned about when I was getting my Ph.D.”

June nodded, “So without the equations, the portal is essentially useless?” 

“Yes Ma’am,” Hidgens confirmed with a grave nod, “Without the equations...well, we won’t be able to access the Black and White in a way where Lex can pull the three men through. We’ll just be poking holes at the matter of the universe without accomplishing anything.”

Tom sighed, “And it’ll all be for not if we can’t remember...which can’t happen until Emma remembers.”

June’s eyes softened, “How is your sister in law, anyhow, Houston?” 

John was vaguely reminded of the friendship and comradery between himself, Xander, June, and Tom in his early days at PEIP. Tom had been younger than the rest of them and they picked on him (good-naturedly, of course) for being the only straight member of their small group. He longed for that sense of friendship and inclusion again. Now, as he watched the three of them interact, much older than they’d once been, he smiled at the thought of returning. 

“She’s flatlined twice since that first time, June,” Tom said regrettably, “Earlier today, Tim asked me if she was ever going to wake up...and…” 

He sighed and ran a hand through his curly auburn hair, “...I didn’t have an answer for him. It’s been over two weeks since she went into the coma...they’ve resuscitated her three times...and I don’t know what to think.” 

“You still letting Tim in to see her?” Xander asked.

Tom nodded, “He’s not as excited to go...not since the first flatline, but he still wants to...I think he’s scared he’s gonna end up being there if she goes.”

June nodded in understanding, “Hopefully that’s not the case.”

“I hope not,” Tom whispered, looking back down, clearing his throat, “So...let's recap on the plan so far…” 

The plan was simple so far.  
Once everyone remembered the three people and the conversion equation was found, the plan was to test the portal to ensure that it opened up into the appropriate plane of existence. Within two days of doing so, the Foster sisters were to access the Black and White through the portal. Hannah would act as Lex’s eyes and ears in locating the souls while Lex would be able to pull them out through the portal. Hidgens hoped that the fabric wouldn’t be weakened to the point where much larger-scale beings could seep through during the process, but there was no guarantee. The plan was simple, but actually getting to the point where they could execute it was the real difficulty. 

The top priority was finding the equations of convergence, once they found those, they could begin to test the portal’s ability to open into the Black and White. 

A great deal of the plan rested on Emma remembering...hopefully with her waking up alive and well.

He’d been in the room the last time she’d crashed, and it had taken them two shocks from the AED to bring her back. Paul had been holding his breath the whole time and looked as though he could crumble when the beep of the monitor was resumed...and he had. Paul had said nothing to him, his primary focus being on Emma and Emma alone. John provided what comfort he could with the updates on the existing plan but the taller man was on his last nerve and growing impatient. 

John could tell Paul was uncertain. The lingering fear that Emma might die was always there, he could see it in the man’s exhausted eyes (and they weren’t supposed to ever have the need for sleep). 

John hoped that the memories and equations would come soon because if they didn’t, he was sure Paul might die...again. He prayed to whatever God that existed that Emma might live, he didn’t know what would happen if the world reset and they were forced to start from square one again.

Hidgens was unfocused as John turned his attention back to the conversation that was still playing out in front of him. While Xander talked about how the portal would likely meet the end of its construction within the next two days, Hidgens had begun to rifle through the assortment of papers that Xander had haphazardly stacked off to the side- too tired to file them properly (much to the chagrin of June and John).

As John observed the old man, it became very clear that he was searching for something as he was disinterested by anything in the piles that would give any browser pause. Then again, of course, John supposed that the professor was the farthest thing from normal. 

As Tom began to offer his own assistance in the finalized construction of the portal, seeing as how he had several former experiences in working with advanced technology Hidgens gasped as he had found what he was looking for, and withdrew the object in question. 

He held up a small, orange index card that John recognized immediately. 

Since the whiteboard had been needed to contain all the related evidence to the mission, Xander had scrawled his equations onto the card and dropped it into the file pile, not really caring where they went as he’d become excited with the notion of finding an _actual_ interdimensional anomaly. John figured that in Xander’s mind, the equations could wait as much more important and _exciting_ matters had come into play. 

“Lee,” Hidgens said, his tone demanding, “What is this?”

Xander looked up and his eyes softened, “Oh...those are just my mystery…”

“Equations?” Hidgens finished for him.

Xander nodded, his eyes widened slightly, “Yeah…”

“May I ask why they’re mysterious?” Hidgens asked, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently- probably for dramatic flare, which irked John in a way. 

Xander shrugged, “They just popped into my head last Christmas.” 

“Last Christmas?” 

“Um...yeah?” 

“Around the time of Jane Perkins’ death?” Hidgens said, casting an apologetic look at Tom. 

“I mean…” Xander didn’t seem so sure, “Yes...I guess?”

“These equations just _popped_ into your head?” 

“Yeah, and I don’t know what they mean,” Xander clarified, growing noticeably impatient, “What of it?” 

“You’re telling me that the exact equations we need for this mission just popped into your head?” Hidgens demanded, his eyebrows flying up incredulously, “Because these are the _exact same_ equations...I swear.” 

Xander’s eyes widened, “W-What?” 

“I might not have been able to access the records or access the equations from my addled memory,” Hidgens began, his eyes wide with disbelief, “But I swear, all the variables are in place and I have no doubt that these are the exact equations we need to ensure the portals operational quality…”

“Xander’s mystery equations?” June said with a scoff, “Well, that’s convenient…”

“On the contrary, Colonel,” The Professor nearly shouted with immense gusto, “It makes perfect sense…”

“How so?” Tom asked, leaning in, “How would these equations have been in existence since my wife…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. 

Hidgens nodded, “Well...if the reset points really do start there, then it would make sense that the information would get to Xander through the fabric without him realizing...When he wrote the equation, it must have been like drawing a picture, yes?” 

Xander paled slightly and nodded. 

“So subconsciously,” he went on, “The information slipped through the fabric of the reality and made its way to you...this was _meant_ to happen.” 

“Almost like it’s inevitable, innit, John?” A new voice joined the conversation.

When no one else reacted, John whirled around to face the double-denim clad figure of his former mentor. The man’s dark hair had been slicked back again, similarly to the way it had been the last time they encountered one another all those weeks before (at least in Hatchetfield time). His eyes that had once been a respectful and resolute brown had been stained an annoyingly bright green with the influence of the interdimensional beings. 

“Cross,” he sighed, “What are you doing here?”

The taller, greasier, and much more insane man cackled obnoxiously. 

“Ah John,” He smiled, “Can’t a mentor check up on his favorite students from time to time?”

The man gestured to Xander, Tom, and June, who were now discussing how the equations had just _happened_ to appear in Xander’s mind last Christmas and how impossible it was. 

Wilbur chuckled, “See? It’s funny…” he started to circle around them like a ravenous vulture around a carcass he found appealing, “They’re talking about how impossible this is...how it shouldn’t be happening...and yet, they shoulda realized a long time ago that in this reality... _anything_ is possible…”

“You sound like a motivational cartoon character for children,” John said bitterly, feeling protective as Wilbur, the now self-proclaimed ‘Uncle Wiley’ made his way behind Xander, stopping. 

“Do you really think it’s gonna work, John?” The man said, quirking one bushy eyebrow up at them.

John didn’t answer. Cross was only trying to make things more difficult for him, to get into his head. He couldn’t let him. 

The man saw the resistance and laughed again, “Oh, Johnny, you’re always so suspicious...but I’m not here to make ya doubt yourself...I’m here to offer you a word of warning.”

John said nothing, his eyes never leaving Wilbur as he began to circle the group again. 

Wilbur smirked, “Looks like they got Lavernor’s nephew, huh?”

“What did you come to warn me about?” John said, keeping his tone even and his face neutral. 

Wilbur walked towards him, “You think your little plan is gonna get you, Ethan, and Paul out of the Black and White...you think that you can allow the fabric of this reality to seal itself back up again so the laws of the universe can be obeyed, but you know it’s not going to work the way you want it to? Yes?” 

John didn’t get a chance to respond as Wilbur went on, “You may escape the Black and White...but you’ve made allies where you shouldn’t have...You know that with the weakening of this fabric, the forces of the Black and White have their sights set on this reality, and each isn’t interested in playing the game fairly.”

“This reality. Is not. A game.” John said through gritted teeth. 

“To them, it is,” Wilbur said with an evil sneer, “You know that escaping the coming apocalypse is not an option, regardless of whether or not you can get the fabric of this reality to heal...and if Emma dies…” he trailed off and clicked his tongue. 

“What do you know about Emma?” John said, fighting against the anxiety that was filling his chest. 

Wilbur smiled and cackled again, “Oh come on John,” he said with a condescending tone that John found infuriating, “There are only four people within the Black and White who know she’s the bookend for the resets. She dies and this round is over...the forces within the Black and White don’t know that yet. But if they did…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

Wilbur- no, Colonel Wilbur Cross was dead- _Wiley_ raised an eyebrow, “You’re right, I wouldn’t...but if they did know, it could easily serve as a kind of cheat code for the game...ending the other player's chances before they can win.”

John tried not to linger on this, “You’re bluffing.” 

“Am I?” The man sneered again, “Regardless of whether or not Lil’ Miss Perkins lives or dies, you know you’ve made allies with the wrong parties...a rookie mistake really.”

He looked nonchalant as he raised a hand, opening a black vortex to allow himself back into the Black and White. Before he entered, he turned around. 

“There _is_ a reckoning coming, John...and you’d best hope you’re ready for it.” 

With that he was gone, leaving John invisible to the other people in the room. 

\---

_“Really, Em,” he said with a slight smile, “You didn’t have to…”_

_“Shut up and open the damn present.”_

_They were sitting on the living room floor in his house, in front of a small Christmas tree they had set up with Bill Woodward, his best friend, and Alice Woodward, his goddaughter and Bill’s daughter, a few weeks before. She was wearing an oversized hoodie that definitely belonged to him with joggers, while he was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas pants and a t-shirt that made him look extremely adorable. That and the addition of his glasses had completed the dorky look and had made her wonder if Christmas was going to replace Halloween as her favorite holiday._

_On his lap, he held a small square package that was wrapped (although not very well) in brown paper and doodled on with red and green pens. She’d spent so long trying to hide the gift from him, and now that she was giving it to him, her heart felt like it was in her throat._

_“Look,” she said, burying her face in her hands, partially to hide the blush that was growing across her cheeks and partially to apply pressure to where a headache was coming on, “I know we agreed on no presents...just...I felt like this was something I wanted to do...okay? I hope you like it.”_

_She wagered a peek at him, and saw that his expression was fond, “Okay…” he murmured, “Besides you’re not the only one who broke the rule…”_

_From his pocket, he withdrew a small envelope-looking package (also crudely wrapped) and passed it over to her. He looked nervous._

_She grinned, embarrassed, “Look at us, we can’t even follow through on an agreement to not get gifts…”_

_“What can I say,” he said with a push of his hand through his bedhead (another thing she found so inherently adorable), “Some things are worth it.”_

_She blushed and groaned, “Fuck, man, you can’t keep making me feel things.”_

_He smirked, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”_

_“You’d better not," she said seriously with mock-aggressiveness, "...because your ass would be handed to you so fast...”_

_“Promise?”_

_She looked at him, taken aback by the sudden comeback. His eyes were innocent but his mouth was contorted into a satisfied smirk._

_“Oh my Goddddd,” she groaned, to which he laughed, “Just open the damn gift before I change my mind. Jesus Christ, Paul.”_

_He smiled and set to carefully opening the gift._

_Watching Paul open a gift was like watching an arthritic grandma knit a sweater. He was so careful, so precise. Almost as if he was afraid of tearing the paper._

_“Paul,” she said, the anticipation killing her, “It’s just paper, and the wrapping job is shitty. You can tear it.”_

_He smirked and continued to go at the excruciatingly slow pace, making her fiddle with her hands in exasperation._

_“I swear,” she groaned, her anticipation coming through her voice, “If you don’t get a move on, I’m gonna actually come over there and open it for you.”_

_“But you worked so hard on it…” He said in a mock whine, “I don’t wanna rip it.”_

_“I am five seconds from taking the gift back.”_

_“Hey, you gave it to me,” he joked, “I’ll treat it with as much care as I please.”_

_Part of her melted at that. The fact that he would treat something she’d made- even if it was just a shitty wrapping job around a gift she didn’t know if he would actually like- with so much_ care _and_ gentleness _astounded her. She’d never had anything she’d made or done in her life be treated like it was made of crystal or something so precious no one wanted to see it rip or break._

_They’d been dating for almost two years, and everything had been going incredibly. She had spent such a great amount of that first year worrying that she would scare him off or that she wasn’t showing him how much she loved him in the long run._

_After visiting his mother in the graveyard that first time over a year before, she’d gotten used to the idea of ‘being in love’ with him. He was dorky, kind, and patient in all the ways she wasn’t, and in some ways, they complemented one another wonderfully. She felt like they were always equal and supportive, even in times where they would disagree. There was a loyalty within their relationship that she’d never experienced before. She’d felt like she’d found someone worth staying for. Plus, the sex was incredible, so there was always that._

_She only hoped that the gift she’d given him wasn’t too sappy. She’d gotten the idea for it while studying at his house one day and was looking for a new pack of sticky-notes she was sure she’d stashed in a random drawer in his bedroom. Why she’d stashed them there, she was not sure, but she’d been searching for them when she found the source of inspiration for her gift. She could only hope that it wasn’t too affectionate or weird for him._

_After several more excruciatingly long minutes, he finally gently removed the paper from her gift. Setting the paper off carefully to the side he looks down at the gift in his lap._

_It’s a small photo album from the looks of it, with a dark blue cover. The cover doesn’t have much on it, but he can see that the book is filled with stuff already from the width of it._

_He looked up at her with a fond but shocked expression, “Em…”_

_“Just look through it,” she said, her stomach coiling into nervous knots._

_Gingerly, he pulled the cover back to reveal the first page. Behind the plastic sleeve work of the page, he finds a cardboard coffee-cup sleeve._

_His eyes widened as he recognized the object and the handwriting on the sleeve, he looked up at her, “Emma...is this?”_

_She smiled at his reaction and nodded, “I found it in your nightstand drawer a few weeks back and smuggled it out.”_

_It's the cardboard sleeve she’d given him her number on. Back when he’d first worked up the nerve to ask her out. The fact that he’d kept it after all this time, almost like he was afraid he would forget her number or always wanted a memory of that day. The writing was scribbled, and apparently, he had accidentally misread a number and texted someone else before realizing what he thought was an eight was actually a five. She smiled at the memory when she found it, and the idea for the scrapbook popped into her head._

_As more time had gone on, she’d found little things...small things like receipts from their first couple of dates, or ticket stubs from the movies they would go see together in random little places and she accumulated them for the scrapbook._

_He smiled at her and turned the page, finding polaroid photos and other developed prints of the two of them over the course of the time they’d spent together._ _  
__Some of the shots were candid. Shots captured by people like Tom or Charlotte when they’d go out drinking or for dinner. Others were nice, with poses and pleasant settings and happy smiles. But in each one, they looked happy._

_Happy and in-love. A combination Emma had never really imagined for herself._

_After about ten minutes, he had made his way through the entire book, gently tracing over each photograph and article of remembrance with his fingers, before coming to the middle, where he found the rest were blank._

_“I figured, we could add more to it...in the future,” she stammered, angry at the fact that she was most definitely blushing, “Do...do you like it?”_

_He looked at her, his eyes wide and filling with tears, his voice cracked when he spoke again._

_“I love it.”_

_She exhaled sharply with relief. He scooted closer to her and pulled her into a warm hug, kissing her head happily, “I love you so much, Em.”_

_“I love you too,” she laughed._

_After a few moments of blissful silence, he pushed the small parcel into her hands excitedly. Although, his hands were noticeably shaking._

_“Now open your gift,” he said, pulling back, a nervous but teasing smile on his face._

_She held her hands up in defeat, “Okay! Okay! You don’t need to be so demanding!”_

_He chuckled, but the nervous energy was extremely clear in his eyes. She quirked an eyebrow at him with a teasing smirk to which he snorted._

_She picked up the small package from the floor. It was about the size of her palm and had been obviously wrapped in several layers of thick paper to prevent her from making out its actual shape._

_Unlike him, Emma was absolutely vicious when it came to pulling off all of the paper, working as quickly as she could to pull off each layer as it was exposed. He laughed at her as she struggled with the tape._

_“Need a hand?”_

_“Fuck you.”_

_“Wow, okay rude,” he said, for a moment, the nervousness was gone “But it is Christmas, so I may take you up on that offer.”_

_She blushed again. There were rare occasions when he could be one of the smoothest and sexiest bastards she’d ever come into contact with. Emphasis on rare._

_After a while, there was a pile of torn wrappings in her lap and she had to do a double-take as she looked at the object in her hand._

_It was a single house key._

_Her eyes widened and she looked up at him as he was wiping his undoubtedly sweaty palms on his pajama pants._

_“Paul…?”_

_His eyes were wide and he ran a hand through his hair nervously, “Em...I-uh….you’re amazing...and...um...I-uh love you...and- you don’t have to if you don’t want to...but-uh”_

_He stammered off, looking anywhere but her, “I know...I know your lease...is-uh, up next month...and I...I was wondering if you wanted to...m-maybe...m-move in with me?”_

_She was speechless for what felt like hours but was probably only a millisecond._

_As if her body was on autopilot, she pulled him into a deep kiss, smiling against the dork's lips. He hummed against her mouth and they broke apart._

_“Is-Is that a yes?” he stammered, his eyes wide and his mouth in a lovely grin._

_She chuckled with a small nod, unable to think of anything else to say, and pulled him back in for another kiss, growing more passionate and romantic with every passing second._

_This dork_ wanted _her in his life._

 _He wanted her to live with him. He wanted to wake up next to her every morning. He wanted to share a bathroom and a mirror with her. He wanted to share a dresser with her. He wanted to cook in the same kitchen, work in the same living room, cuddle up on the same couch, sleep in the same bed, and live with_ her _._

 _He_ wanted _her._

_The thought was new, intoxicating, and amazing to her._

_As she curled her hands into his messy hair, she couldn’t care less about the torn wrapping paper strewn about the floor or the snow that was definitely going to make it all the more difficult to leave the house-_ their _house- later that day. She couldn’t bring herself to be melancholy with the memory of Jane’s death, the anniversary having passed the week before. She couldn’t even care about the throbbing headache that had made itself dominant in her brain, beating against the inside of her skull ceaselessly._

_All that there was right now was him and her._

_And that was all that mattered._

\---

Paul had spent the past two weeks in that same small infirmary room, remaining vigilant as always. 

In spite of his state as a Black and White whatchamacallit (he was leaning towards Phantom...it seemed to suit the fact that he wasn’t entirely a ghost), he felt fucking exhausted. 

He’d paced around Emma’s room, sometimes finding new places to perch, sometimes standing beside her, sometimes holding her hand when he could...sometimes panicking in the corner…

When she’d first flatlined all those weeks ago, a sense of panic he’d never once experienced in his life had gripped his bones. His heart, it seemed, had stopped with hers as a tightening in his chest had made itself at home.

Every second of that agonizing moment seemed to pass as slowly as years did. He could only plead in his mind that she would be okay as the tears he couldn’t even register trailed their ways down his cheeks. 

Hannah helped of course. As the little girl had spent a great deal of time in the infirmary with him and Emma, she’d become some strange sort of interdimensional confidante. Because she could see him, it felt good to be acknowledged. They were both of few words, however, and didn’t say much. All the while Emma was without a heartbeat, Hannah had been murmuring “she’ll be okay” to him over and over again. The message hadn’t registered until after Becky and the other nurse had managed to get Emma back. 

The shriek of the heart monitor echoed in his ears like sirens. Like a rattle of death that continuously burned in his mind, making his stomach turn and his veins turn to ice. 

And it happened two times after that. 

Each time she flatlined, he would curl in on himself and plead with whatever forces of the universe he could until Becky announced that they’d gotten her back. But each time she flatlined, they required more voltage to get her back. Every time, he prayed there wouldn’t be a next time...but she still hadn’t woken up yet. 

Every time it happened, he would hold his breath and wait for them to call it. 

But it didn’t happen. 

She’d flatlined three times in the past week and yet, she was still fighting. That had to be a source of hope, right?

He was losing what hope he had. He’d apparently seen Emma die so many times in the past resets and he wasn’t willing to go through it again. 

Emma was everything to him. He couldn’t remember wanting anything until he wanted a life with her. 

Was it really selfish of him to ask the universe for her life to remain? 

He knew she was going to remember _all_ of him eventually, and they would get him, Ethan, and John out of the Black and White, from the information that John had given him in passing. But what was the point of returning to a world if Emma wasn’t in it? But then again, they probably wouldn’t be able to return to the world if Emma died because then the world would reset...then it would be back to square one of nonexistence. Brilliant. 

So, Paul remained in the infirmary, trying very hard not to lose what little resolve he had left, in hopes of making the most of what little he could. 

Still, everything was morbid as Emma had been comatose for over two weeks. 

Hannah hadn’t come today, having spent the day training with Lex and Hidgens from what he understood. 

He knew that the window for the mission was getting close. That pretty soon, the universe would have to decide whether or not Emma deserved to live or die. Whether or not Hatchetfield needed a clean slate starting with Jane’s death.

Emma had still been bleeding the black blood, but it didn’t flow constantly anymore. Occasionally, it would drip from her nose or ears, but Becky or another nurse would come back and simply clean it up. The darkness of the blood wasn’t associated with anything indicating decay of cells or infection, they’d concluded it was because her mind, body, and soul was being stretched across the thresholds of reality...the Black and White _bleeding_ through, manifesting itself in her pain. 

He was sitting beside her, kneeling on the floor, his hand phasing through her hand. She couldn’t feel it, he knew, but maybe his presence...just his _being there_ could be enough to bring her back to him. According to the clock on the wall, he’d been like this for three hours when the sound of the door opening snapped him out of his thoughts. 

He looked up and saw Xander, wearing a black sweatshirt instead of his usual professional uniform jacket and t-shirt combination and a tired expression. He obviously had forgotten to shave in the past few days as his stubble had gotten a little bit longer. He eyed Emma’s figure, almost submerged in the wires and tubes of life support, and sighed. 

“Hi, Emma,” he murmured, taking a seat in the chair beside her bed. Behind him, John trailed in, his eyes wide and calculating. Paul nodded in acknowledgment before turning his attention back to Emma. 

“I just came by to update you on the case,” Xander said, keeping his expression hopeful, “I feel like you deserve to know what’s going on since you’re sacrificing so much…”

She was sacrificing so much more than that...it was her _life_ on the line. 

“We finished transporting all the parts to the portal Professor Hidgens has,” he said, “Because he and Tom are working on the construction, it should be ready for testing within the next two days...Lex and Hannah are almost completely ready for the mission…” 

He trailed off as a sad smile made its way onto his face before he looked like he was remembering something, “I- Oh! We found the convergence equations, Emma!” Paul looked up at John for confirmation and the man nodded.

John had told him on one of his few visits that the convergence equations were a factor they needed for the portal to be able to access the appropriate plane of existence, namely, the Black and White. Once the portal was opened into the Black and White, then Lex and Hannah would be able to locate them and pull them out of the void. A part of him was anxious to return back, but another part of him felt bad for the responsibility of retrieving them to be placed on the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old (soon to turn eighteen, as Hannah had told him), and an eleven-year-old. 

Still, if they had truly found the convergence equations, then the only factor they needed now were the memories that depended on Emma. 

“It turns out, we conveniently had them all along…” Xander said, “Hidgens explained it as though it was a leak-through that occurred back when the reset went back to the night that...well, you know,” He looked down, looking ashamed of himself. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” Xander said, after a while, “While Hidgens claims this would have happened whether we liked it or not, you don’t deserve this pain...You deserve to have your soulbond back…”

Paul felt a twinge of guilt. None of this would have been happening if hadn’t gotten himself wrapped up in the Black and White in the first place. In some ways, he was responsible for her pain, and if she died...he would be responsible for that too. 

“I know why you did it though,” Xander said, looking at the small bedside stand where the sketch Hannah had done of Paul still remained. 

When she’d been awake, Emma had stared at that picture for what felt like forever, brushing her fingers over it with a wistful smile. Paul had to admit, it was a great likeness to him, but he still couldn’t figure out why that had made Emma agree. 

“It's the same reason I fought for this mission when Hannah told me about John,” Xander said with a sad smile, “I knew at that moment that I was missing someone I loved without any good reason why...it was an instinct...it was a calling...A calling I had to answer. I knew that I had to bring him back...and when your professor explained everything, it all made sense…”

He wiped away at his eyes, “I guess what I’m trying to say, Emma, is…” he trailed off and looked Emma, unresponsive, “...Is thank you... for your sacrifice, for your bravery, for your life...and I hope that one day we’ll all be with our soulbonds, communing as friends. I’d like to meet yours, I know for sure. From what little I know, he seems like a good guy.” 

Xander let out a small chuckle and stood.

“You’ll be okay, Emma,” He whispered, “I know you will.”

With that, he left. John offered Paul a sympathetic nod, casting his green eyes over Emma once more before leaving wordlessly. 

Paul looked back at Emma.

She didn’t even know his name, and she was willing to bet her entire life on the chance that she might get him back? 

She was willing to risk _everything_ based on a couple of vivid dreams and the ramblings of people society would consider crazy? 

She wanted to get him back.

Why?

His fingers attempted to gently trace circles into the skin of her hand and were met by empty air, as he thought. 

Did she love him before she could remember him?

If they really were soulmates then he would have to assume this was true.

The only proof she had of his existence were the photos from the wreck, and vague scientific knowledge that she was experiencing memories. Everything after that was up to dreams, Hidgens, and Hannah. 

Emma was always so skeptical of soulmates, and romance and all that shit palm-readers would throw in your face. So what had happened to make her become a believer now? 

The only answer he could come up with was that she loved him. 

The thought was astounding.

He knew with every cell in his body, dead and new alike, that he loved her. He was willing to lay down anything to get back to her...but he knew her. He knew what her favorite color was. He knew that she liked to stay up late and sleep till noon. He knew she loved kisses along the dappling of freckles on her cheeks and on her arms. He knew she liked mint chocolate chip ice cream the best. He knew she liked talking to the plants in their garden when she had no one else to rant to. 

He, at the very base of it all, knew her _name._

If she survived the memories, then she would know his name, and maybe she already knew somewhere deep in her subconscious all of the different parts of him that few understood...but he wasn’t so sure. 

The one thing that he was sure of, was that he loved her, and he would do anything for her. 

So, in that small infirmary room, Paul Matthews would keep vigil over Emma until she remembered and woke up- ignoring the morbid notion that she might not. 

He did this because he’d promised himself that because he loved her, he would do whatever it took to get back to her.

No matter how long it took, he would do it. 

No matter the sacrifices he had to make, he would do it. 

If there was even a chance that she loved him back, he would do whatever he could to ensure he got back home to Emma Perkins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, some serious shit is about to go down. I hope you're ready. 
> 
> I really like the idea of June, Xander, and John being Tom's annoying older PEIP siblings for some reason.  
> Also, for whatever reason, I wrote about Christmas despite being VERY DEEP in the spooky season spirit.  
> Give Paul Matthews A Hug 2020 (also, he loves Emma, in case you couldn't tell)
> 
> I've got the next few chapters mapped out already, so buckle up my friends...
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you would like to!! Happy Nightmare Time premier day!!!  
> As always...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!


	24. I Remember the Face but I Can't Recall the Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're either gonna love me or hate me by the end of this one, folks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Whatsername" by Green Day (I am most definitely a Green Day fan, in case you couldn't tell)

Reset No. 6

Date: August 1st, 2018

Being Unknown

Professor Henry Hidgens had been awake for a total of 73 hours and he was fine. 

He and Tom Houston had spent that time tirelessly working to complete the portal. Tom worked with the engineers while Henry worked with the scientists to ensure that the portal would be operational as soon as possible. Unlike the original equations of convergence, the files on the assembly and construction of the portal were still available, and they had been granted authorization by Colonel Schaeffer to access them. 

Because of this, the assembly of the portal went swimmingly. 

It was large, about ten feet high and ten feet wide. To some, it would have looked like a welded sculpture in the shape of a perfect circle, but the machinery and protective barriers that surrounded it indicated very clearly that that wasn’t the case. 

He wasn’t worried about what was going to happen, he’d seen it all in a sense. Maybe just fragments, but he knew there was a sense of understanding when it came to the mission at hand. For things to proceed as they were supposed to the mission _would_ succeed. It had to. 

He sighed as he stared at the readings in front of him, setting the machinery to the appropriate numbers so they could run their first test. 

“Dr. Hidgens?” a familiar voice sounded behind him. 

Henry turned around to see Major Lee, looking majestic as ever with his oddly-shaped sunglasses. 

“How goes it, Professor?” He asked. 

Henry nodded as the man approached, “You’ve arrived just in time to see us run the first test of the portal,” He gestured to the monitors, “As far as I can see, it should work, but Captain Houston is down there getting everyone into position and out of harm’s way should anything go wrong.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Xander asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Henry looked at the portal, “Well, Captain Houston thinks we’ve eliminated any chances of combustion and redirected the energy at the portal correctly…” he trailed off as the images of the dark lightning flashed in his mind again, “The only risk I can think of is the unpredictable nature of the energy of the Black and White...but that should be kept in control by the structure itself.” 

Xander nodded, “Triage is all set up?” 

Because both Henry and Hannah had confirmed that Ethan’s body had sustained considerable damage when he’d died, they hypothesized that the boy, and Emma’s bond partner, would require medical attention. Because of this, and the fact that Hannah and Lex could potentially be over-exhausted by the end of the mission (something Henry hoped wouldn’t occur), Dr. Abadi and a trauma surgeon by the name of Phillipa Kirk were taking charge of a triage station off to the side of the warehouse room where they’d built the portal. If the injuries were incredibly bad, they had enough vehicles prepared to transport them to the infirmary quickly and efficiently. 

“Yes,” Henry said with a nod, “Dr. Abadi and Dr. Kirk are doing fantastic in setting up what is necessitated, with the occasional assistance of Rebecca Barnes and Nurse Chapel...Captain Houston and Agent Rodney are completing the final diagnostic check-up to ensure that the portal is completely finished and not in any danger of controllable incidents.” 

“Good,” Xander nodded before raising an eyebrow, “And what’s that?” 

He gestured to a long-barreled gun that was leaning up against a control panel. In the magazine of the weapon, one could see darts filled with a bright amber fluid. 

“In case something comes through the portal that we want alive, but don’t necessarily like,” Henry explained.

“What do you mean?” 

“Just a feeling.” 

“Dr. Hidgens!” The bellowing voice of Captain Houston echoed through the warehouse as he and Agent Rodney made their way to the control panel, “Everything looks structurally sound, so if you’re all set, we can begin the testing.”

With that, Captain Houston moved to his side of the panel, Agent Rodney stood behind him. 

Henry hadn’t seen much of Agent Callum Rodney but he could tell the young man (who he presumed couldn’t be older than twenty-six or twenty-seven) knew his way around technology and was responsible for creating the software that had enabled the mission to be set in motion, to begin with. Because of this, Xander had allowed Rodney to assist Henry and Captain Houston in the proceedings. Henry wouldn’t deny, the man was intelligent and could work his way around computers in a way he certainly couldn’t understand. 

“Engineers are ready to go on standby, Dr. Hidgens,” Rodney said, his official voice snapping Hidgens to attention as he took his place at the side computer station.

Hidgens nodded and went to the microphone, pressing the side button to speak into it, as Xander took his place at the panel. 

“All engineers on stand by,” he called into the microphone, watching as the engineers scramble up the scaffolding on the sidewalls, standing by the paneling that would allow for the energy to transfer to the structure efficiently, but in a way in which the energy wouldn’t overwhelm the structure as a whole. After all, Henry had first built it over twenty years ago. 

Captain Houston nodded as he took his place at the machinery work side of the panel. 

“Engineers in position, Doctor,” The burly man spoke. 

Hidgens nodded and spoke into the microphone, “Triage on standby.” 

“Triage in position,” The voice of Dr. Kirk came from the side of the room. Her curly hair pulled into a puffy ponytail as she stood in her position, Dr. Abadi beside her. 

“Energy structure stabilized?” He called out, looking at one of the younger engineers, Callie Watson. 

“Energy structure stabilized, sir.” She called out from her monitor. 

He looked at Major Lee, and handed him a key, matching his own, “Keys in position.”

They placed their keys in the associated slots on the panel.

“Keys in position,” Lee confirmed.

“Keys to converge position.” 

They turned their keys clockwise. Hidgens’ positioned at twelve o’clock again while Major Lee’s was at five o’clock. 

He nodded and turned to Agent Rodney, who had placed his hand over the appropriate panel, “You may begin, Agent Rodney.”

Rodney nodded and called out, “Beginning conversion with the Black and White.” 

“All systems go,” several of the engineers and scientists called out from their positions as the circular structure began to glow. 

“Energy diversion successful,” Tom yelled from his place. 

“Conversion imminent,” Rodney called as the structure began to glow a light green. 

Hidgens smiled and turned to Rodney, “Converge, Agent Rodney.”

“Conversion proceeding.”

With that, the structure was suddenly filled with a green light that faded to black instantaneously, the roar of the machinery suddenly fading into nothingness. 

With a start, he recognized the chill of the energies of the Black and White. Not harming anyone, just there. 

It had worked. 

The portal was functional. 

“Portal stabilized,” Major Lee said calmly from his place at the panel. 

Hidgens couldn’t take his eyes off of the portal. That swirling vortex of green and black that sent chills down the spines of everyone in the room. He turned to look at Major Lee, who had removed his sunglasses and was staring at the portal with an immense wonder and terror. 

“That’s it?” He whispered, looking to Henry with his eyes wide. 

Henry nodded, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Xander didn’t nod, he merely stared at the vortex, “I only want to get John and the others out of there.”  
Hidgens nodded again and called to Agent Rodney, “End convergence.” 

“Ending convergence,” Agent Rodney confirmed as the green and black energies began to die down. 

“Keys out of convergence position,” he instructed Xander, who complied. 

“Keys out of convergence position.”  
“Keys in primary position.” 

“Keys in primary position.”

“Remove keys.”

“Removing keys,” Xander said as they simultaneously pulled the keys out of the keyholes and placed them where they could both keep them safe. The light and whines of the machinery died down. 

“Cut off the power,” Hidgens instructed Captain Houston.

“Engineers on standby,” Houston called, “Cut off the power.”

With that, each engineer shut off their own panels, calling out “Power cut off” as they did. 

Henry turned to Callie, “Energy stabilized?”

She nodded, “No residual energies of the Black and White detected.”

He turned to Captain Houston, “Structure stabilized?” 

Captain Houston nodded, “No structural abnormalities detected.”

Henry followed up with a question, “Energy completely diverted?” 

“Energy diversion successful.”

With that, the test was over and he looked to Xander with joy in his eyes, “We did it.” 

“It works…” Xander breathed, looking like he was filled with disbelief. 

Henry leaned into the microphone, “Test successful.” 

From all sides of the warehouse, there were cheers of triumph as they celebrated the success. He’d known it was going to be a successful test, but actually experiencing it had made him all the more joyful. 

He turned to look at Xander but found that he was neither joyful nor shocked with excitement. 

Rather, the man had grown rather pale, his eyes wide and sad as he held his transponder to his ear, trying to hear over the sounds of the cheers

Suddenly Henry was filled with a sense of dread as Major Lee turned to Captain Houston, whispering something to him that had made the burlier man go pale. In a flash of movement, Houston was yelling at another agent- Agent Caspar, if Henry wasn’t mistaken- to take his spot at his panel and began to bolt for the door, his eyes wide in something nearing panic. Xander followed quickly behind. 

With a start, he realized they were moving in the direction of the infirmary with great haste.

_Oh no._

\---

Paul was sitting on Emma’s bed when it happened. 

Hannah was there, sitting quietly while beating her palms against the floor. Unlike the previous times she’d been there, she hadn’t brought anything with her. There was no legal pad for her to sketch on or the mouse she’d introduced him to as Mo. Instead, she’d just sat there and watched him and Emma. 

Emma was over three weeks into being comatose and was still showing no signs of waking up, much to his own disdain. However, she hadn’t flatlined since the third occasion, so that was definitely a bright side...but not one he could focus on all that well. 

Unlike most days, Hannah didn’t say much to him either. Normally they would have a regular conversation with her saying something cryptic that he would somehow get. 

The only thing she’d said to him was that the day was “Lex’s birthday” and that they’d gotten two cupcakes. He’d smiled and nodded along, expecting her to say more, but she’d just sat down and watched them. He wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable with that, he understood that Hannah was her own person and whether or not she wanted to communicate with him was up to her entirely. 

He was similar to her in that regard, and it's what had made him grow fond of Hannah. 

In spite of her few words, she’d been able to acknowledge his presence and give him some sort of interaction that made him feel like some things were going to be okay. 

Lex came in a few hours later, sitting with Hannah and sharing another cupcake with her, Ethan trailing behind her. 

Ethan looked at Paul’s tired face, “You okay?” 

Paul merely shrugged, as if no verbal answer could convey the true meaning behind what he was feeling. Words failed him every time he tried to describe the situation.

“It’s Lex’s birthday?” he asked Ethan, who nodded and smiled happily. 

“She’s a legal adult today!!” He chirped, “Although she’s kinda been an adult since Hannah was born.”

Paul managed a small smile at his enthusiasm, “He looked at Hannah, who was smiling at him. 

“Hannah, can you tell your sister happy birthday from me and Ethan?” He asked gently, to which the young girl nodded joyfully. 

“Ethan and Emma’s guy say happy birthday,” she told her sister, before biting into her cupcake. 

Lex raised an eyebrow before smiling, “Well, tell them I say thank you.” 

“They can hear you...they know,” Hannah spoke through mouthfuls of cake.

Paul smiled at the way the two girls seemed to be at ease, in spite of the overlaying situation. 

Becky came in, smiling brightly, “Hi girls! How are you?” 

“Good,” Lex said with a smile, wiping crumbs of chocolate cake from her face. 

“I heard it’s someone’s birthday today, so I came to wish you well,” Becky smiled warmly, “Welcome to adulthood.”

“Thanks,” Lex grinned, “I don’t _feel_ like an adult…”

Becky laughed, “Some people never do.”

Paul could easily use Ted as a perfect example of that. Maybe even Bill on the occasions the two of them would get into petty fights or Bill would try and place the blame for the divorce on his wife to justify himself. Sometimes, _he_ didn’t even feel like an adult. 

Becky moved to the small side countertop, placing labels on a small tube before moving to Emma’s IV, preparing to draw another blood sample. He cringed as he watched the ink-like blood run through the thin catheter and fill up the tubing quickly. Even as Becky withdrew the syringe and sealed the blood tube up, he couldn’t help but wonder what all these blood samples were going towards. They took several blood samples over the course of the day, and yet, no new information came out of them. It was all very infuriating to him.

Becky smiled at the girls again as she placed the collection tube on an appropriately labeled tray, “I heard they’re gonna start testing the portal today so we should be able to-”

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP._

A loud shriek from the heart monitor cut Becky off, cutting Paul deep to the core. 

No. 

Within moments, Lex was picking Hannah up and moving her out of the room, getting away from the noise as fast as possible, while another nurse entered the room. He jumped up from the bed and tried to grab Emma’s hand. Ethan just stood there, his ice-blue eyes wide as Becky moved to quickly attach the cords to the appropriate pads on Emma’s chest, rendered bare as the other nurse pulled open the gown.

Everything passed so quickly, he could barely even register his ragged breathing or the hot tears that poured down his face as he tried to hold any part of Emma he could. Desperately phasing through everything he touched. 

“Charging!” 

The whine of the AED filled the room. 

“Clear!”

Emma’s body lurched up in an agonizing thrash that reminded him of a fish out of water. 

“Pulse?” 

“Negative.” 

No. 

“Charging!”

The whine filled the room again. 

“Clear!”

Emma’s body jumped up again, making Paul whimper at the unnatural angle of her torso in relation to her head and neck. 

“Pulse?”

“Negative.” 

_No._

“Charging!”

He hardly recognized the third whine as it rang throughout the room signaling a higher voltage than before. Surely they’d get her back this time. 

“Clear!”

Emma’s body jumped up, staying up longer this time, looking like her ribs were going to pop out of her chest. 

“Pulse?”

No answer.

“Pulse?” 

“Negative.”

_No...that couldn’t be._

“Alright...charging.”

“Becky...stop.” The other nurse said, “She’s gone.”

_No. No. No._

Becky sighed, her eyes filled with immense guilt.

Then Paul heard the other nurse say a string of words that made him feel like he was going to vomit. 

“Time of death, thirteen fifteen. Becky, would you alert Major Lee...” The words faded into nothingness as the grief embraced his whole being. 

_No._

_This wasn’t right. Emma had to be alright. She couldn’t...no._

_No. No. No._

_NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO…_

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he tried desperately to take Emma in his arms, not registering his crying and pleading with Emma’s lifeless form. He shook Ethan off of him as he pleaded with her. 

“ _No...No...Em-Emma c-come back,”_ he sobbed pitifully, “ _Come back…please…”_

He could hear the scramble of machinery and feet squeaking against the floor as Tom and Xander made their way into the hospital room, Becky trying to explain to them what happened as the other nurse began to write down the time and presumed cause of death on Emma’s file. John muttered something to Ethan, his green eyes blown wide in shock and pain. Paul didn’t care. His mind was everywhere and nowhere. 

_“Please, Em…”_ He begged, “ _Pl-Please c-c-come back…”_

He buried his head on the mattress as the tears fell in cascades down his face, phasing through the mattress and into the floor below him. He couldn’t bring himself to care. 

_Emma._

_The love of his life._

_The only person he’d ever truly wanted in life._

_The one who completed his existence._

_His soulmate._

_She was dead._

_She was dead._

_She was dead and it was all his fault._

He felt like his heart had been ripped free from his chest and was shaking around inside his ribcage painfully, like a marble or a pair of dice in a small container. Waiting for life's cruel game to be played.

Over his sobbing, he could barely hear John say something to Ethan he couldn’t quite make out. 

It wasn’t until he heard the word ‘reset’ repeated again and again, that his mind started to race.

The world hadn’t reset yet.

Why hadn’t it reset yet?

They couldn’t have been wrong about the reset point being Emma’s death...it was a consistent factor in each reset…so why hadn’t the world restarted yet?

_Unless..._

A faint glimmer of hope -or desperation being the more likely option- overtook him. 

“C-Come on, Emma…” he whispered, his voice cracking in the grief as the tears fell in torrents. He tried to cup her face desperately, “Come back.” 

He could hear John and Ethan murmur confused nothings to one another, but he didn’t care. 

“You c-can do it, Emma,” he sobbed, “ _Come on...c-come back…”_

“Paul…” John started, taking a step towards him as if to pull him away. 

“ _No!”_ Paul growled tearfully and John backed off, “Come back, Emma...You can do it...I-I know you can...come on…”

Desperation pounded in his chest as he saw one of the nurses come forward as if to remove all the cords and tubes that had been keeping her alive. 

“ _Come back, Emma!!”_ He sobbed, his words coming out in a visceral scream he could never have imagined himself giving, “ _Please…don’t leave ...”_

“I’m sorry, Paul,” John whispered, placing a comforting hand on the weeping man’s shoulder. 

Paul sobbed, his throat ragged as he bawled into whatever plane of existence he could reach. He felt like his insides were being torn out and remodeled leaving him hollow and broken. He felt like every cell in his body was weighed down by grief and anguish he couldn't understand. 

His crying was so loud, he almost missed the faint beeping. 

“ _Oh my God!_ ” someone shouted, “ _We got a pulse!!_ ”

He opened his eyes and looked up at the monitors, where Emma’s heartbeat had been restored, he sobbed louder. 

“That's it!” He cried, tears streaming down his face “That’s it! You can do it, Em!”

“My God…” he looked up to see Xander had gone pale, his voice cracking as he looked at the monitor that covered her brainwaves. He could have screamed with joy as the next words left Xander’s mouth.

“She’s waking up.”

\---

_“Now move your ass, you’ve got a line,” Nora barked before retreating into the backroom to do God-only knew what._

_Emma had been having a rough day. Between a failed phone call to Tom earlier on and her car not working (again), she’d been in a bad mood long before she stepped into the cesspit she called her workplace. As per usual, customers were sporadic but always bitchy in all the ways that made her life miserable. Her most recent one had been on a bit of an ego trip and bitched about her being ‘ungrateful’ for his ‘extremely generous’ tip of one dollar. When he continued to bitch about it, and she reacted in a fashion that was warranted, he’d taken back the tip and threatened to never come back there again (to which she’d sent him the middle finger and a bitter thought of ‘good riddance’). Unfortunately, her boss had captured the last few moments of the conversation and another annoying customer had ratted her out. Not only that, she’d also gotten very little sleep as a result of spending an incredible amount of time on a project for Professor Hidgens, which did nothing to improve her mood nor her work ethic._

_Needless to say, Emma was emotionally and physically exhausted by the time Nora had yelled at her needlessly again._

_So, she turned around, expecting to see another awful customer with a face she would instantly hate, with a desire for some weirdly specific drink that probably tasted disgusting and a sense of entitlement that made her feel like she was less than human._

_Instead, she found a familiar face, with clear blue eyes that suddenly brought a sense of calm to her extremely shitty day. He wore a dark brown suit with a black tie and his brown hair was swept neatly off to the side. He stood with an awkward stance that remained polite, almost like he was uncertain of what to do._

_She recognized him from several repeated visits to the coffee shop._

_This was the cute black coffee guy._

_Zoey had often teased her about him, calling him the ‘Black Coffee Hottie’. It was only after this that she had been able to acknowledge that he was, in fact, very cute._

_She managed a small smile, “Hi, can I help you?”_

_“Yeah, I’ve got an easy one for you, just a cup of black coffee.”_

_Oh, thank God for customers like him._

_As she set to make his drink, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he’d dropped a bill into the tip jar._

_“Jesus,” she sighed exasperatedly as he suddenly went down in her regard. As she whirled back on him, his eyes widened, “I’ll suppose you want a great big ‘thank you’ too, huh?”_

_“What?” he stammered, looking genuinely confused, “Oh no, no, I just tipped because...you know...people should tip.”_

_Okay, his position in her regard was restored._

_She sighed in relief that at the very least the cute black coffee guy wasn’t keen on being a jerk like everyone else, “Well...thank you.”_

_“I mean...the only requirements for tipping are good service, right?” she said, willing to take advantage of the fact that he was a good listener, “I mean, I do my job right? One shitty paying job after the other...and somehow he still expects to be painted like a fuckin’ saint? Arrogant ass...”_

_He nodded as she went on, listening intently._

_“I mean_ he _doesn’t have to make coffee for all of these assholes!” she exclaimed before recanting her statement, “Oh...n-not that you’re an asshole...well maybe you are, what’d ya tip?”_

_“Five bucks?!” Her eyes went wide as she glanced between the Black Coffee guy and back at the five-dollar bill. She looked from left to right to make sure she was out of earshot of Nora or Zoey, “You meant this just for me, right? Like, I won’t have to split it with anyone?”_

_He rattled off his next few words very quickly, his back rigidly straight as he seemed to sweat nervously, “Oh no, that’s for you, I don’t give a shit about them…”_

_She chuckled. He was kind of adorable when he was flustered._

_“Well, that's very sweet…” Not a lie. Few people had ever been that generous, even with the knowledge of a split._

_“God, I’m just sick of Nora and ZOEY...” she started to make his drink as she continued her rant, “Who is technically my manager, even though she’s ten years younger than me...God…”_

_He’d chuckled at the remark as she went on, “She hired all her little theatre friends and they will not SHUT THE FUCK UP about some shitty production of_ Godspell _they put on last summer.”_

_“Oh, that was the one at the rec center, right?” He said, his tone polite as he acknowledged the event with a form of disgust she couldn’t quite recognize, “I think I had to see that...I did not like it.”_

_“Yeah! It sucked, right?”_

_“Yeah they shouldn’t call it_ Godspell, _more like God-awful,” he said with a proud smirk._

_“Yeah...or God-damn that was bad.”_

_“Yeah,” he chuckled at her joke, trailing off into a string of giggles she found very adorable._

_“I don’t like musicals,” he said decisively. She looked up at him and nodded. To be honest she couldn’t blame him._

_He went on in his explanation, “Uh-watching people sing and dance makes me very uncomfortable…”_

_“Oh…” she said, quirking an eyebrow at him as she handed him his drink, “Why’d you come to the Theatre-kid infested coffee shop? Y’know, there’s a Starbucks right across the street.”_

_“Oh...um..well…” He looked down at his feet, clearly contemplating his next words, “_ Some things are worth it.”

 _Oh._ Oh. 

_It wasn’t that she was completely oblivious to his failures at flirting for the last few months, but that particular comment was the final nail in the coffin. Obviously, he’d tried very hard not to flirt with her in her place of work, or accidentally overstep the customer-worker boundary of respect, but his crush on her was almost painfully obvious._

_He seemed to notice his mistake and panicked, taking a sip out of the piping hot coffee, making her cringe inwardly and feel sorry for his burnt tongue. Also, why was she noticing the shape of his lips?_

_“Like...damn good coffee.” He finished, obviously in pain from the burning hot coffee with an awkward thumbs up accompanying it._

_“I see you in here all the time, don’t I? What’s your name?”_

_“Paul.”_

_“Hi, Paul...I’m Emma.”_

_Suddenly the sound of something like a tea kettle in the background grew to a roar in her mind._

_“Do you hear that?” she asked him._

_“Hear what?”_

_Everything was going dark, and suddenly he was gone from her vision._

_Paul._

_Paul._

Paul.

_She screamed as the scene around her melted into the darkness and she was alone, the sound of the tea kettle had been joined by the sound of...screaming...like a mourning cry._

_She recognized it from when she’d first found out that Jane had died._

_The scream offset the screeching of the kettle, and her mind focused on that noise as the darkness began to envelop her._

_Was she dying?_

_She didn’t have time to contemplate that because, amidst the sounds of screaming and crying, a near sonic sound entered her head, conveying one message that made all the tendrils of darkness that were dead set on claiming her retreat._

_One message and one message alone was echoing in her mind._

“Come back, Emma!”

_It sounded like a cry...a desperate plea._

_She recognized the voice’s owner._

_She knew his name._

_Paul...it had to be him._

_Suddenly, a light began to make its way through the darkness._

_“My God,” a familiar voice she couldn’t quite place said, “She’s waking up.”_

_As the light began to flood more and more around her, she was bathed in warmth and light and welcoming...and life…_

_Above all else, life._

Her eyes shot open and she tried to sit up, nearly falling backward, only to be caught by two pairs of gentle hands. 

Everything was blindingly bright and loud. Her head was spinning and her heart was pounding desperately inside her chest. She tried to take in a breath but choked as she registered a thick tube extended down her windpipe. 

She shook and coughed as a gentle voice instructed her on what to do. 

“Emma, Emma, it’s okay…” It was Becky, but in the blinding light Emma couldn’t see her, “Let the tube do the breathing for you for a moment...okay?” 

The other nurse, a slightly older, dark-skinned woman with close-cropped hair and professional, dark eyes, stroked her back gently as Emma began to calm down slightly, “That’s a good girl, you’re okay…”

After a while, Emma’s vision adjusted and she was able to make out more of the room. She was in the same hospital room she’d been when she’d passed out...that had to have been...what? Hours ago? So why did she have a tube in her mouth?

The two nurses gently set her back down on her back. 

“I’m gonna remove the tube now, Emma,” the second nurse, she vaguely remembered her last name as Chapel, said calmly, to which Emma allowed her a nod and let the uncomfortable process of removing the tube begin. 

Once the tube was removed, Becky brought a bucket forward as Emma began to cough violently. She lurched forward, residual black fluid making its way free from her lungs as she coughed and regurgitated the oil-like substance into the container. Her lungs were violently demanding air, painfully straining against her ribs. Nurse Chapel remained at her side stroking her back, telling her she was alright while Becky wiped her mouth. 

Her eyes searched the room frantically as she caught her breath. She hadn’t even noticed all the people standing there.

In front of her was Xander and Tom, both men looking pale and bewildered. Tom looked like he’d been crying recently and his hands were shaking at his sides. Xander looked both frightened and relieved all at once, in a way she couldn’t understand.

Then, she saw the Foster sisters. Lex wore an expression similar to the one that was worn by Xander and Tom, her hands were protectively on Hannah’s shoulders.

The younger girl, however, was smiling. Her eyes were filled with a great deal of hope. 

Emma couldn’t care less about what was happening or what had just happened. 

Suddenly everything had made sense.

Suddenly all the puzzle pieces had fallen into place.

Suddenly, she had a name to go with the face. 

Hannah’s smile grew wider as she spoke, “Remember.”

Emma’s throat hurt and made her cough more as she took in air desperately but a single word was desperately trying to make its way off of her tongue. As Becky rubbed her back gently, helping her adjust to normal breathing, she murmured a few words that Emma couldn’t quite pick up on. 

Raspy coughs left Emma’s throat wildly as she got a hold of her breathing. 

Finally, the one word that had been on her mind since she opened her eyes came off her tongue. The word that seemed to make sense of everything in her life that she’d been missing. The word that completed her heart and soul every time she thought of it. 

Like she was remembering one of her favorite old songs that she’d not heard in a while, she opened her mouth and the word left her lips in a death-like rasp. 

“ _P-Paul._ ”

\---

As Emma rasped out the name on her chalk-like voice, a warm sensation overtook Xander. 

His head was buzzing with something he couldn’t recognize as a feeling of familiarity and images wormed their way into his brain. Colors he could vaguely remember and not exactly distinguish from different parts of his life had suddenly become clear and constant in his mind. Crashing over him, in wave after wave after wave of memory. 

_He saw a meeting. The both of them with hair cropped close to their scalps, eyes searching one another as they shook hands._

_He saw training. The two of them running miles while laughing at Tom who couldn’t keep up, and being left in the dust by June._

_He saw the first date over pilfered snacks in the commissary. The two of them trying out different pick-up lines that only made them laugh harder and Dr. Pepper come out of his nose._

_He saw the first kiss. It was behind the breakers on the third floor as he had come to visit Xander while he was working on his first paranormal experiment._

_He saw the wedding. It was small, with only a few guests, Tom and June included._

_Most importantly, he saw the memories of John._

_John. His husband._

_General John Robert McNamara._

And Xander smiled as happy tears fell down his cheeks. 

\---

Lex almost instantly became refamiliarized with the feeling of warmth and welcoming as memories began to flood their way into her mind, filling all the cracks and holes that had filled her life. 

_She saw classes. Shop class with Mr. Houston was always easier with Ethan as the teacher had a fondness for the two of them._

_She saw bandaids being placed over small cuts. Always associated with light scolding, teasing, and calling one-another a ‘dumbass’._

_She saw Hannah. The girl had smiled and told her that Webby said he was good when she introduced him to her._

_She saw movie nights. They usually watched cheesy musicals on his air mattress on his shitty apartment, eating snacks that they may or may not have shoplifted._

_She saw her real family. Manifested in a tall dork who used weird slang, and her little sister._

_But most of all, she saw memories of Ethan._

_Ethan. Her stupid, idiot boyfriend and her sister’s protector._

_Ethan Green._

\---

Paul was sobbing as the relief at seeing Emma alive ran its course through his veins, making him shake and hyperventilate as he did. 

She was breathing. She was awake. 

As she sat up and tried very hard to get a hold on her breath, he could only see her. 

She was awake. She was alive. 

He turned to John and Ethan, who both looked shocked and amazed, relief burgeoning in his eyes. The two looked shocked beyond belief, but the relief and ease was there. It was as though a ton of bricks had just been lifted off of his chest. He sobbed harder as a smile made his face feel like it was going to crack open. 

“P-Paul…”

The voice was so scratchy, at first, he didn’t think the name had come from her. 

“Paul…” it was repeated.

No...it couldn’t have been...

He whirled around to see Emma crying, a sad smile on her face. 

“That’s his name…” she whispered, her voice sounding as rough as sandpaper and painfully cracking on different vowels.

Wait...had she…

“His name is Paul,” she repeated, tears falling from her face. 

A breathy sob left his throat as a joy he couldn’t understand overtook him. 

_She’d said his name._

She cried harder, thereby, making him cry harder. The relief of seeing her awake and alive combined with hearing his name from her lips making itself a sea of emotions that were manifesting themselves from him right now. 

“I remember…” she whispered, a bright smile on her face as tears fell in cascades.

She let out a wet chuckle that made Paul feel like he could melt. 

“I remember him.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that escalated quickly...  
> They've got the equations...  
> They've got a working portal...  
> They've got the memories...  
> Everything should work out, right?  
> Well...we shall see...
> 
> Also, in my mind, the following PEIP OCs are played by the following people (not that it really matters, I just want to include it)  
> -Agent Callum Rodney: Brian Rosenthal or Robert Manion  
> -Dr. Phillipa Kirk: Rachael Soglin  
> -Callie Watson: Tiffany Williams  
> -Nurse Monique Chapel: Lauren Walker  
> -Agent Caspar: Curt Mega or Brian Holden  
> *I didn't cast anyone as Dr. Kamaria Abadi, because I couldn't really imagine casting anyone as her. 
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you would like, I would greatly appreciate it!!!  
> As always, thank you so much for reading!!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	25. More Than a Shadow Dancing Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name for this chapter comes from the song "Illuminate" by Wildes
> 
> So, starting tomorrow, my schedule is gonna change a lot. Because of this, I might not be able to post as often, I hope that is okay. I'm still going to write because lord knows we've got a long way to go before we wrap this sucker up, but the updates are gonna be a little spaced out.

Reset No. 6

Date: August 3rd, 2018

Being Unknown

“Bullshit,” Emma said to Xander, who was leaning against the far wall pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, “I’m gonna be there.”

“Emma, you woke up  _ two days ago, _ ” He reasoned, sounding exhausted.

“Yeah...so?” 

“So, you’re still not in a fit state to be there for the mission.”

It had been less than two days since Emma had woken up from being in a coma for over three weeks (which had been a major shock factor for her once she’d managed to come to her senses), and in that time, she’d discovered that they’d already worked out a plan to save the fabric of the universe and her soulmate...Paul…

She loved the name. She was giddy every time the name crossed her mind, in spite of her own disgust at all that romantic shit. She had memory after memory of a lifetime where she and Paul had spent happy days together. 

While most of the memories had been blissful and happy, there was still the painful memory of losing him. 

She’d spent a great deal of time thinking about how she lost him. 

The vivid nature of the former apocalypse made every shadow seem suspect to her. There was an awful sense of emptiness that filled her stomach every time the memory came to mind. Every time the horrific image of him soaring limply into the portal, bleeding and accepting of his fate, she felt like she might throw up on the spot. The pain of losing him was one that she never wanted to experience again.

But they were going to get him back. 

If everything went according to plan, they would get them all back.

They’d get them all back today. 

But Xander was being a little bitch, and telling her that she couldn’t be present for the mission. 

“Look!” She argued, pushing herself out of the bed with him sighing and muttering for her to sit back down, “I can stan-”

She fell on her ass with a small squeal, cutting off her words. Xander offered her a hand that she refused stubbornly. Crossing her arms in front of her like a petulant child, she continued to make her case. 

“I can sorta stand,” she told him matter-of-factly, “But all of my scans and bloodwork came back normal...so why shouldn’t I be there?” 

“Because you were in a  _ coma  _ two days ago,” he said matter-of-factly, “Better-yet, you were declared  _ dead _ before you pulled the whole Lazarus act.”

Was it weird that she was strangely proud she’d survived dying? If that made any sense.

Apparently, she’d flatlined  _ four  _ times and was declared dead on the final occasion, before suddenly waking up and scaring the shit out of everyone. 

“Yeah...so?” She said, quirking an eyebrow, “You said I was going to be discharged today or tomorrow, so everything should be fine, yes?” 

Xander sighed and rubbed at his eyes again, “Yes.”

“I’m not in any danger, medically-speaking, anymore. Yes?” 

“Yes, Emma, but-”

“Then why can’t I be there?” She asked, growing all the more annoyed. 

Xander looked like he couldn’t provide her with a good enough answer so instead, she decided to go on the offensive-defensive. 

“What if our places were swapped,” She started, studying his face carefully, “And you were physically fine, and someone was preventing you from seeing John?” 

“Wait just a minute-” He started holding up a hand. 

“You haven’t seen John in how many lifetimes, Xander?” She went on, “What would you do if someone told you that you couldn’t see him for stupid reasons?” 

“First off,” Xander said, holding up a hand, “You being in a coma and unable to stand are  _ not  _ stupid reasons…”

“Yes they are,” she said, “But go on…”

“Secondly,” He said with an exasperated sigh, “Are you insinuating that you would find a way to break into the warehouse for the mission anyway?” 

“Is that what you would do?” She asked, ready to end this man’s whole career. 

Xander inhaled and exhaled sharply, clearly done with everything. He turned on his heel, leaving Emma on the floor. 

“Xander! Is that what you’d do!?!” She yelled after him. 

For a moment, she just sat there, unsure of what to do. Had Xander really left her on the floor without an answer? She was coming up with acid-filled comebacks when he walked in with a wheelchair being dragged behind him. 

He held out a hand to her, “Alright, come on...let's get to the warehouse, the mission is supposed to start in half an hour.”

She smiled big as he helped her into the wheelchair. Luckily for her, she’d been allowed to change from the hospital gown into a pair of comfy joggers and a sweatshirt, so she actually looked decent. Sure, her hair was a frizzy mess from the freezing cold shower she’d been allowed to take earlier that morning, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup but she couldn’t care less. She was gonna see her soulmate today. She was going to be there when they got him back. When they got them all back. 

“Thank you,” she smiled at Xander, who simply nodded. 

“Lex and Hannah are going to be there for Ethan, I’m going to be there for John...It’s only fair that you get to be there for Paul…” he said with a sweet smile. 

After making sure she was secure in the chair, Xander began to lead them through the labyrinthine hallways of the base, the familiarity of the infirmary disappearing from view, returning to the sterile white walls that made her feel like she was in a sci-fi movie than real life. 

As they made their way towards what would be the site of the mission, her mind began to race. 

What would their reunion be like? She wasn’t quite sure how she would react. She wanted nothing more than to look into those blue eyes and hug him without letting go, but she was also fairly certain that she would lose any form of self-control at the sight of him. 

How would he feel coming back? Would everything immediately return to the way things were before the world ‘reset’ as Hidgens had called it? Would they start over? 

Needless to say, her mind was completely occupied by the time she and Xander had made it all the way into a big, fortified warehouse. 

“We’re here,” Xander murmured and her jaw dropped. 

She recognized the circular structure from one of the most painful memories of her past life. It was the exact same portal that she’d last seen Paul being pulled into...the same cause for their mess to begin with. Her heart clenched in her chest as her breath caught in her throat. 

The portal was the reason he was gone, but now it would be the reason he would come back. 

Xander steered her over to observe from the small makeshift infirmary, being occupied by Nurse Chapel (who’d asked to be called by her first name, Monique), Dr. Kirk, Dr. Abadi, a few other nurses she didn’t recognize, and Becky Barnes. She could see Lex and Hannah sitting on one of the gurneys, waiting for their cues in the mission, both wearing black jumpsuits that had some protective material over it. She felt slightly guilty that the two girls were at the epicenter of the mission. She imagined that there was a great deal of pressure on the two as the success of the mission relied on them alone. 

Becky smiled wide as she and Xander approached. 

“Nice to see you’re up and ready to see the mission,” she said with a warm smile, “You gave us quite a scare a few days ago.” 

Emma swallowed the urge to vomit at the woman’s saccharine behavior and instead muttered a small ‘thank you’.

“Alright, I’m gonna help Hidgens and Callie prep for the mission while Tom and Rodney finish surveying the structure,” Xander said officially. She noticed a nervous glint in his eyes,“ Are you cool with hanging out here and observing the mission?” 

She nodded and he turned on his heel. 

“Oh, and Xander?” he turned back to look at her. 

She swallowed hard and hoped her next words would be right. 

“It’s going to work.”

\---

Ethan could see John and Paul shifting nervously. 

They’d all adjourned to the Black and White as the mission had been scheduled in Hatchetfield’s present, and they were awaiting their rescue. In the back of his mind, he was nervous, but for the most part, he was excited. It seemed all too unreal that he would be a living person again if the mission was a success. He would have Lex and Hannah back. 

Since Emma had pulled a Frankenstein and the memories of him had returned to everyone, Lex and Hannah had been beside themselves in preparing for the mission, and he felt their excitement course through him as the hour at hand drew nearer and nearer. He wanted so badly to see his girls. They’d been the only thing that had kept him going in his...state. 

Not only had Lex and Hannah remembered, but Mr. Houston had also remembered and made himself extremely useful in the process of retrieving the three of them. Apparently, he’d been good friends with John during his time with PEIP, and knew Paul relatively well through Emma. That, and the memories of being in shop class with him and Lex had also made the urgency of the mission grow. 

He was extremely happy that there were people that  _ cared  _ that he got home. 

He knew that the wounds that fucker Goldstein and the guy with anger issues had given him at Lakeside during the Black Friday maniac-rampage, would most likely return when he was re-materialized into Hatchetfield. So, because of that, he would most likely be unable to give Lex and Hannah the hugs he so desperately wanted to give them...the thought was painful, but he would much rather hug them when he was alive and well rather than feeding the maggots of the Hatchetfield cemetery. 

What he couldn’t quite understand, was why Paul and John weren’t as excited. 

“Can you believe it?” He asked them, “We’re going home!” 

Paul smiled slightly and looked down, “Yeah...but what if it doesn’t work?”

“It will,” Ethan said definitively, not having time for Paul’s fatalistic thinking, “Don’t bet against them just yet…”

“I agree with Ethan,” John said with a smile, “We should have faith in them…”

Paul smiled nervously, “Yeah...you’re right, I just…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair, “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

Ethan could understand where the man was coming from. In the past few days, Paul had been through an emotional trainwreck of events. Between Emma going into a coma over three weeks before, then dying, and suddenly waking up with memories of him, Ethan was surprised Paul hadn’t completely broken yet. The grief he’d witnessed Paul express when Emma had died had been one of the most brutal things he’d ever watched. Even after Emma had woken up, Paul had been shaken beyond imagining. 

So, it made sense that this was overwhelming in its scope. 

“Ethan…” John murmured, “Paul and I have had a discussion, and…”

“And?” Ethan looked up, slightly apprehensive at this development. 

“And…” Paul continued, smiling slightly “We agree that you should be the first to be pulled out.” 

Ethan’s eyes widened.

“Are…” he started, unable to comprehend what he was hearing, “Are you sure?” 

John nodded, “You’ve been here the longest, son...we agree you’ve been away from your family the longest.”

Paul nodded with a kind smile, “Hannah and Lex need you...and you need them.”

Ethan felt tears form in his eyes, “Shit...shit man…” 

He wiped at the tears furiously before rushing forward and wrapping the two of them in a bear hug. They both stiffened at first, but as time went on, they both melted into it. While they weren’t family, per se, they’d all formed a sort of niche between the three of them. They’d seen some of the most difficult times alongside one another. They had a bond that had been formed through the trials of the Black and White and being outside of time and space. They’d seen one another through the trials of not being able to interact with those they loved, and now they had their chances to escape.

He couldn’t believe his ears. The two of them had been away from their loved ones for so long, and yet they were willing to let him be free first. They cared enough to allow him to be pulled out of the empty hell first. 

“Thank you…” he murmured in between stiffs. 

He looked at John as he pulled back, “Thank you so much…”

He was going home. 

\---

“You ready for this, Banana?” Lex said as she looked at her little sister, who was swinging her feet off of the gurney with a bemused look. 

The girl nodded with a satisfied hum, “Get them back.”

“That’s right,” Lex smiled, “We’ll get Ethan...and all those other people back...and then…”

And then what?

They still didn’t have enough for California. Ethan had always been a part of that plan when it came to their escape. When the memories of their life had been restored, every happy memory and not-so meticulous plan for their escape was there. He had always been one of the main factors in their success, even if they were both unsure of which steps were taken to get there. 

Once they got Ethan back, what would happen?

Would they remain at PEIP? 

To be honest, she trusted some of the people at PEIP enough.

And then there was taking care of Hannah…

“Be okay,” Hannah muttered, looking up at Lex, “We’ll be okay.”

“Does Webby say so?” Lex asked gently, ready to believe anything Hannah had to offer. 

Hannah shook her head, “I say so.” 

Lex smiled at her sister and wrapped her in a hug, nestling her head into her sister’s soft hair. Her sister hummed again and broke free of the hug, just in time to see Mr. Houston talking to Emma. The conversation appeared to be one of comfort, with Mr. Houston- now Captain Houston- seemingly reassuring her. Emma nodded before gesturing back at the two, seemingly mouthing ‘good luck’ before Mr. Houston looked over at the two of them.

Lex swallowed hard, realizing that it must be time.

Mr. Houston approached them offering a kind smile to the two of them. 

“Hey Lex, Hannah,” He said to the two, smiling sweetly at the two of them, “You ready?” 

Hannah nodded happily, “Get them back…”

“Good,” he said with a smile, “Lex?”

Lex bit her lip, “I guess…?” 

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, Lex,” Mr. Houston said gently, “We can find another way…”

“No…” Lex whispers, “I need to do this...I just...it’s a lot.”

_ A lot _ . That was putting it simply. 

In three weeks she’d gone from working a shitty minimum wage job to support her mother’s drinking habits and her own supposedly stupid dreams, to suddenly being under the protection of the government and having abilities that allowed her to come into contact with her undead interdimensional boyfriend from a past life. It was a lot more than just  _ a lot _ .

Hannah’s hand on her arm broke her out of her thoughts. 

“For Ethan,” she whispered, “For family.”

Ethan's face appeared in her mind. Those beautiful light blue eyes under a messy mop of dark curls. She didn’t know how she’d gotten around without him. He’d been the one to keep eyes on Hannah while she worked ninety-nine percent of the time. They’d both been dropouts who’d been looked down upon for the majority of their lives. When they found one another, they’d found someone who’d understood. Someone who would do whatever they could to survive. Someone who’d do anything to help the other survive. 

At first, Lex had been sure it would have been just a cheesy high school relationship.

But now...she knew that wasn’t true. 

She looked from Hannah to the portal.

Before she knew it, Mr. Houston was leading the two of them to stand in front of the portal, the control panel a yard behind them. Xander, Hidgens, and the younger agent were already positioned there. 

“We’ll tell you when we’re ready for you,” Mr. Houston told the two of them gently, “And if you need to stop at any point, just tell us and we will...I promise.” 

With that, he offered them a small smile before retreating back to the control panel, yelling to Professor Hidgens that they were ready. 

Lex could only look down at Hannah, even as Hidgens, Xander, and Mr. Houston began to call out several words signaling that the mission was about to begin. 

How had her little sister remained so calm? They were about to venture into the dimension between all reality to reclaim the souls of some people they hadn’t known existed for sure until two days ago. 

She admired her little sister in several ways. The little girl had managed to withstand so much more than Lex had since she was born. Hannah may have had her own personal boundaries, but she overcame so much and powered through it. 

A chill settled over her bones and she looked up to see the portal swirling with green and black energy. 

_ Holy shit, they’d opened it already?  _

“Lex, Hannah,” Xander’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, “You’re up.” 

She looked down at her sister, who merely smiled. 

“Let's go, Lexi.”

\---

Hannah held out her hand and Lex took it. She knew what she had to do, she could only trust that Lex knew as well. 

“ _ Ethan first, seer.”  _ A familiar whisper echoed in her mind.  _ Webby.  _

“Ethan first,” she echoed to Lex, who smiled slightly and closed her eyes.

She shut her eyes, and Lex mimicked it, holding her free hand out in front of her. 

A biting chill settled into her bones, grafting into her veins. She’d known the sensation well since she was born. The chill was almost welcoming, in a sense, if it hadn’t been the source of the coming end she would have found solace in it. 

She focused all of her being, all of her sight and vision fixated on the chill.

All sights and sounds disappeared…

Fading

Into

Complete

Silence…

_ Black and White. Black and White. Black and White.  _

_ She opened her eyes and saw the white silhouette of Lex against the black. Lex couldn’t see what she could see, but she could feel what Hannah couldn’t, her hand still clasped tight in Hannahs.  _

_ She saw only blackness as she peered into the Black and White.  _

_ Webby, help me find them, she thought, Find Ethan. _

_ As she surveyed the Black and White, she felt nothing and everything, the chill rushing over her skin in a buzz she couldn’t quite understand.  _

_ “ _ Green, _ ” Webby whispered to her, “ _ Ahead. _ ”  _

_ Hannah’s head snapped straight ahead to see three silhouettes. All of them painted white against the black.  _

_ She recognized the shapes immediately.  _

_ “Ethan!” she called out into the Black, her voice commanding.  _

_ One of the three silhouettes turned to her.  _

_ “Hannah!” she heard the familiar voice echo towards her. She heard it mutter something else to the other figures that sounded like a ‘thank you’ before he bounded towards them. _

_ The two remained behind, watching. Paul and John. She’d return for them next.  _

_ As he came closer, she could make out some of his facial features, like the features cleaved into marble.  _

_ He said nothing as he got closer, his eyes widened. She smiled at him.  _

_ “Soon to be safe,” she whispered to him before turning to Lexi, “Your turn, Lexi.” _

_ Lex flinched, her eyes opening. She would see nothing, Hannah knew, but they widened all the same.  _

_ Lex lifted her free hand, still clutching Hannah’s with her other one before she almost immediately relaxed. Hannah wondered how it felt to recognize Ethan’s presence. Lex had described it like a warm blanket or a warm hug...but Hannah couldn’t necessarily feel anything when she was looking into the Black and White.  _

_ “Ethan…” Lex whispered, her eyes widening, “Found you…” _

_ Ethan made a laughing sound before relaxing, “Yeah, I’m here, Lex...I’m here…” _

_ “Can’t hear you,” Hannah whispered, “Wait til’ out.” _

_ As if on cue, Lex held out her hand and Ethan took it.  _

_ Energy roared in Hannah’s ears as the Black and White melted away… _

_ Away.  _

_ Away.  _

_ Away.  _

_ She closed her eyes.  _

Then opened them. 

\---

When Ethan opened his eyes, he was met by a soreness he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The light was blinding to him...or was that just the walls of the room he was in?

What was he doing?

His vision adjusted, colors adjoining the white, and he felt an excruciating pain in his side toppling over as the warmth grew in his core. 

He was in a white room, electrical paneling with several people in military uniforms at each. In front of him, there was a large control booth with Xander, Mr. Houston, the silver-haired professor that had trained Lex on her abilities, and another PEIP agent was there. 

It was then that he made out the figures standing in front of the panel. 

She was taller than he remembered her. Her dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes squeezed shut.  _ Lex.  _

Beside her, there was Hannah, who, unlike her sister, had her eyes wide open with a smile building on her face. She looked up at her sister and smiled at her saying something he couldn’t quite make out to her. 

Lex opened her eyes and instantly paled. 

That's when he realized, they were looking at  _ him _ . 

He was in the real world...He’d made it. He made it. 

“Lex…” he sputtered, the word coming out in a choke that made his definitely broken ribs ache. 

She and Hannah rushed forward, saying something he couldn’t quite hear as she caught him in her arms. 

God, she was touching him. 

She was  _ hugging _ him. 

He was back. 

A sob left his throat, partially at the pain in his ribs, partially at seeing his girls, as he sunk to the floor, clutching the both of them tightly to him. 

“Ethan…” Lex was sobbing, her voice muffled against his jacket.

“Hey, Lex…” he whispered, making her cry even harder.

“You-” she stammered, choking on her words, “You’re back...you’re here…”

He nodded, looking down at Hannah who smiled brightly, “Yeah babe...I’m here…”

Even as medical personnel rushed at them, helping him up and over to what looked like a gurney, he could only hold onto Lex and Hannah’s hands.

He couldn’t wait until John and Paul were there with him. So they could experience what he was experiencing. 

For the first time in four resets, Ethan Green was alive. 

More importantly, he was home. 

\---

The beings within Black and White screamed in agony.

The fabric had been strengthened. 

A bond was restored. 

“ _ Escaping,”  _ She whispered to just the right being, “ _ If you hurry you may catch him…” _

A melodic squeal from somewhere within the Black and White gave her the correct answer.

Everything was falling into place. 

Soon she would win. 

And Webby smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY GOT ETHAN BACK!! YAY!!  
> Hopefully Webby doesn't mess anything up.
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos to let me know what you think!! I'm so glad you guys have taken the time to read my crap!  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	26. Everybody Knows that the Plague is Comin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission continues...whether they succeed or not...well, that's up to fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Everybody knows" (Originally written by Leonard Cohen, but I really like the Sigrid version better)

Reset No. 6

Date: August 3rd, 2018

Being Unknown

Lex couldn’t believe it. 

She and Hannah had done it. 

When Hannah had squeezed her hand, allowing her to let go of the warmth of Ethan’s soul, and let the chill of entering the Black and White flee from her senses, she didn’t know what to expect. 

She was still in the portal room, but a new, bleeding, familiar figure in front of her had appeared. 

It was Ethan. 

“L-Lex…” he sputtered out, nearly collapsing weakly to the floor, had she not rushed forward with Hannah, catching him in her arms. A cry escaped from her chest and she clutched his shaky frame close to her. 

He smelled like blood and something so inherently _Ethan._

_Ethan._

_Ethan._

_Ethan._

_It was Ethan._

_He was back._

_He was alive._

She sobbed his name into his chest over and over again, even as she felt his shaky hands hold him and Hannah close to him. Around them, she could hear people cheering and clapping, the success of the retrieval making everyone beam with pride. She couldn’t bring herself to care, however, not when her Ethan was in her arms. 

Becky and Dr. Kirk quickly ran to join them, herding them over to the makeshift triage station, where Emma and several other medical personnel were watching the trio with open-mouthed gapes. 

She let go of Ethan for a moment, allowing him to be lifted onto a gurney as the doctors surveyed the damage. He was bleeding, a cut on his head had suddenly become bloodied, and bruises that had remained static for God-only-knew how long suddenly looking like they were painful. 

It took maybe half an hour before the medical personnel had managed to get him out of his bloodied shirt, neatly folding away what clothes he had on, and had wrapped up most of his wounds as a temporary fix until they could transfer all three of the individuals to the infirmary. 

Hannah moved forward, her eyes wide with happiness as she took in the groggy figure of Ethan. 

“Hey...nanana…” Ethan slurred, his eyes slightly hazy, “What’s shakin’?”

Hannah let out a small cry before nestling her head into his arm, “Okay?” came the muffled words. 

“Yeah, Hannah,” he whispered, “I’m okay...I’m home...and they’ve got me on a helluva lot of pain meds…” 

Lex snickered before Ethan’s gaze trailed to her and softened, “Lex…”

She felt like her heart could melt as she walked over to him, her words disappearing into choking sobs, “Hi...Hi, E...”

“I guess I can say I survived dyin’, huh?” he chuckled, wincing in pain as his bandaged ribs moved up and down. If he’d been kicked to death...she shook those thoughts away as she took his soft and gentle hand in her own. God, she’d nearly forgotten how big his hand was in hers. Well, she had forgotten, hadn’t she?

That didn’t matter, he was here now.  
“I’m-” she choked, “I’m so sorry...I’m sorry...I forgot an’...”

“Lexi,” he said, his eyes softening as tears built in his eyes, “...s' okay...if anyone has to be sorry, it's the fault of the fuckin’ universe- sorry Hannah,” 

Hannah nodded from where she was still burrowed in his arm, “Fuckin’ universe…” she muttered.

“Watch that language, Banana,” Ethan chided jokingly. 

She cupped his face, careful not to jostle Hannah from her place, tears streaming down her face, “I missed you, E…” 

He smiled, “I missed you too…”

“Not gone,” Hannah murmured, looking up at Lex with a grin, “Not gone. Always there...protector.”

“Not a very good one…” he said, groaning slightly as he shifted, regret filling his eyes, “I couldn’t keep you from your mom...I could only...watch...m’ sorry.” 

“No...No…” Lex whispered, “You were there...and in some ways, you did get us away from her...with all these anomalies and shit…”

“Huh,” he fell back against his pillow, looking up, “I guess so…”

“Everything okay over here?” Mr. Houston had appeared from out of nowhere. 

“Eyyyyyy,” Ethan said, the pain meds most definitely kicking in, “Mr. Texas Lumberjack!!”

Mr. Houston sighed, “Nice to know you remember the nickname, Green.” 

Lex smiled, back when they’d had shop class with Mr. Houston, Ethan had come up with the affectionate nickname for Mr. Houston. In spite of the protesting on their teacher’s part, they could tell he secretly loved it. 

“Ethan…” Mr. Houston said suddenly, “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there in time to save you...to keep you from-”

“Hey man,” Ethan slurred, his eyes looking anywhere but Mr. Houston, very close to falling unconscious, “S’ fine, man...I mean...I’m ere’ now...so...no prob, Bob. Also...can you tell Lexi and Nana’ I lob em’ but I really need a nap so...” 

He didn’t even finish as he fell back again, his eyes closing and light snoring overtaking him. Mr. Houston looked extremely confused.

“Pain meds,” she explained, running a hand gently through Ethan’s curly hair, unable to believe the sight before her. 

Yes, he was bleeding and bruised, and his chest was covered in thick bandages, but he was there. 

He was alive. 

He was home. 

“I’m very proud of you, Lex,” Mr. Houston whispered, smiling at her, “And you too Hannah.” 

Hannah beamed up at him, still clutching on to Ethan’s arm.

“Thank you…” she whispered before looking over to see Emma in the wheelchair fidgeting nervously, “How’s your sister-in-law doing?” 

“For someone who was temporarily dead?” He said with a light chuckle, “She’s...pretty good...she’s anxious to see Pete-”

“Paul,” Hannah corrected him.

“ _Paul_ ,” he remedied his mistake, “She’s stubborn as hell too, Lee wasn’t gonna let her come down for the mission.”

Lex snickered, “How’d she take that?” 

“She’s down here, isn’t she?” Tom said with a laugh, “But seriously, Lex, what you and Hannah have done today...it’s amazing. You brought back Ethan,” he gestured to the still-sleeping figure, “And you’re going to bring back Lee’s husband and...and Paul.”

He shook his head, “I’m really proud of you...speaking of which, how do you feel?” 

She smiled, “I feel great...it was weird at first, but I’m ready to get the mission done.”

He smiled again, “When Ethan’s done recovering, do you think the three of you will remain on base?” 

“Stay,” Hannah said, her eyes pleading with Lex, “Good here.”

Lex looked around. In a way, the desolate underground base and the people had become her home. In some ways, Hannah had grown to love it and navigate it. Sure, that didn’t destroy every sense of unease she got when she would pass by people in tactical gear or sealed-off rooms, but she still got a sense of hope while she was here. Something she’d never experienced while living in that godforsaken trailer. 

She looked from Ethan’s snoring figure to Hannah’s big eyes.

Maybe this could be home for now. 

Maybe they could make this their home for a while. 

\---

“He made it!” Paul cheered as he emerged from observing Hatchetfield’s present, his face cracked in an extremely bright smile, “Ethan made it!”

John breathed out a sigh of relief, “What about his injuries?” 

“They were there when he emerged from the portal,” Paul explained, “But they’re taking care of them, and it looks like he’s okay...they’ve got him on a ton of pain meds though, so he’s high as fuck.”

John chuckled, “I’m glad he’s safe.”

Over the past few lifetimes he and Ethan had watched together, John had developed a fondness for the boy. He may have been a little crass and not the brightest, but John could tell the kid had a big heart. A big heart for his girls, a big heart for people, a big heart filled with dreams that nobody could be sure would come true…

That’s why it had been easy for him and Paul to come to the agreement to let Ethan leave first. The kid deserved it. It made sense. He’d been there the longest, he was the youngest, and he had two people that were extremely eager to see him again right on the other side. He didn’t deserve to spend another second in the Black and White. 

They’d watched as Ethan had traveled off towards the blindingly white silhouettes of Hannah and Lex as they entered the portal. The boy had seemed more alive than ever...and he was technically dead. Now, one out of the three bonds had been restored and the fabric had already begun to heal. 

There was one down, two to go. 

“John…” Paul spoke up, his blue eyes filled with seriousness, “I want you to leave next.”

“What?” John wasn’t expecting to hear that. 

“You heard me,” Paul said, “You’ve been here longer than I have, your husband has been waiting for you for four resets and you deserve to go out next.”

“No, Matthews,” John tried to reason, “I am a General, I will see this mission through.”

“John,” Paul reasoned, his voice filled with an understanding and a hope that he’d not seen on Paul’s face in a long time, “Go home to your husband...he might need you to get through this mission more than they need me.”

“But Emma-”

“Will be waiting on the other side,” Paul said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Xander is there too...and he deserves to have his husband back after being gone for so long.”

John looked down. 

He would have been lying if he hadn’t imagined going back to Xander throughout the entirety of his stay in the Black and White. It had once seemed like such a childish dream...something similar to growing a pair of wings and flying away from one's problems. 

“John...please,” Paul said, his voice filled with a sense of gentleness, “Go home to your husband...I’ll be right behind you.”

John met Paul’s eyes and saw that he was completely serious. He was reminded of one of the past resets when he looked at the earnest nature of his blue gaze. 

He was reminded of a lifetime filled with blue slime.

A lifetime where meteors manifested out of nowhere, not even an astronomical indicator that it had been there to begin with.

A lifetime where alien invaders stole the skin of human beings and would traipse down the streets singing show tunes with false smiles.

A lifetime where the man standing in front of him had given his life in an attempt to give the rest of the world a chance at one. 

“Do you know we once met, Paul?” John asked him, looking up. 

Paul looked slightly confused, “No...why?”

John smiled, “It was the reset with the apotheosis. You had accompanied one of your friends to the high school to retrieve his daughter. You made it out after your friend had died, but we found you...our orders were to kill any survivors, but I could tell you were a good man…”

The sound of the Black and White’s energy opening a portal sounded again, and the white figures of Lex and Hannah appeared, ready to take one of them back. John’s heart leaped at the sight. 

He looked up to meet Paul’s gaze again, “What I am trying to say is...It has been an honor to serve with you.” He saluted him, which Paul reciprocated. 

“I’ll see you on the other side, John,” Paul said with a smile. 

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

“ _John,”_ Hannah’s voice echoed throughout the silence, making John turn towards the girls. He began his slow pace towards them, looking back at Paul’s pensive look only once. 

_He was ready to return home._

\---

The sigh of relief that left Xander when he saw the Green kid standing outside the swirling vortex of green and black had been something that he’d never expected from himself.

Even after Lex and Hannah had reunited with the bleeding figure of Ethan, he had found himself in a state of hazy relief, the realization that he would get John back in just a few moments had hit him. 

He was getting his husband back today. 

His heart clenched a little as he watched the two girls reunite with a now-bandaged up Ethan Green. Whatever had killed the kid had certainly done a number on him. He knew John hadn’t been murdered or anything, but an aspect of his mind wondered if John would come out injured or in pain. He hoped not. He also hoped that he would be able to maintain his composure as a Major when he saw his husband. 

So, as the Foster girls positioned themselves in front of the portal, and he heard Hannah say to her sister that John was supposed to be next, he suddenly felt like a middle schooler who’d just found out their crush was interested in their science project (he knew that feeling specifically because he’d experienced it before- but that was another story for another time).

They started the portal back up again, and he watched as Lex and Hannah both went rigid, their hands extended into the open air. 

For a few moments, he only heard the sound of his own breathing and his heartbeat, as his digestive tract tied itself up into several knots.

Tom chuckled from his place at the monitor, “Nervous, Xan?”

“Right now it’s Major, Houston,” he reprimanded jokingly. 

“Nervous, Major Xan?” Tom's voice came again. 

“Most certainly not, Major pain in the ass,” Xander retorted.

“Ah, so I’ve been promoted?” Tom joked, his eyes filled with mischief. 

“Shut up…” Xander muttered, turning his gaze back to the portal as it flickered and shimmered, casting a chill over the room. In spite of the cold, he was definitely sweating because he’d lied to Tom.

He was nervous. 

Every time the portal flickered and wavered, he flinched, as if something might jump out and bite him. Hidgens seemed to notice, but he didn’t comment on it. 

Finally, as the room waited with bated breath, the silence agonizing, a white flash came from the portal, just as it had with Ethan. 

He closed his eyes against the blinding light until the roaring of the energy came to a stop. Vaguely, he heard Hidgens run through analysis procedures with Callie and heard that no residual energy could be detected from outside the portal. 

That was when he opened his eyes and looked at the portal.

In the green light, at first, it was difficult for him to see anything other than the swirling green and black light, but as his eyes adjusted, and he was able to make out different colors and a familiar shape against the vortex, his breath caught in his throat. 

It was John. Looking exactly as he had when he’d last seen him. Standing straight (the only time he’d ever use that adjective for anything in his life), tall, and proud, his uniform remaining the exact same. 

Xander stumbled out from behind the monitor just standing off to the side, unable to say or do anything. What was he to do?

John answered the question for him as he paced forward, nodding respectfully at the two Foster sisters as he did, in silent thanks for his retrieval. 

As he approached, his pace professional and powerful, he saluted Tom, who smiled and saluted back. He nodded and saluted at Schaeffer, who was standing by the triage station, her turquoise eyes wide in disbelief. 

Then, he made it to Xander, and Xander managed a shaky salute.

“G-General...General McNamara,” Xander managed to pipe out, his voice shaky as he did, unsure of what to do. 

John smiled warmly and did something he could never have expected. 

Before Xander knew it he was being pulled into a warm and affectionate kiss, a kiss that made his head spin and made him almost immediately go on auto-pilot. Immediately, Xander reciprocated, making the engineers and medics and all other personnel cheer with excitement and delight. Xander was giddy as he held John closer, they only broke off for air after a few moments. 

“Hi, honey,” John whispered, a teasing smirk on his face, “I’m home.”

Xander could have wept right then and there, “So much for workplace relationships being appropriate, huh, John?” 

“Shut up,” John whispered before kissing him again. 

They broke off when Schaeffer called, “Gentlemen, as much as I hate to break up the reunion, I really must insist that the General receive a medical evaluation.”

“Ah, June,” John smiled big and brightly, “It's so good to see you’re still the mother hen…” He leaned in and kissed Xander again, making him chuckle

“John,” she retorted, her eyes in a newly restored teasing glance, “It seems you’re going to be having an extremely long meeting with the human resources department if you keep your tongue down Xander’s throat any longer.”

Xander laughed and broke off, wrapping his arm around John and steering him towards the triage station. 

He couldn’t believe it. 

His husband was home. 

Better yet, his husband had ignored typical propriety and kissed him upfront. 

Xander couldn’t have asked for a better reunion.

As they passed the entrance to the triage area, John stopped and looked at Emma, who was still fidgeting ceaselessly in the wheelchair. Xander, still trapped in a blissful state of mind, stopped with him, not wanting to walk off without John. 

“Miss Perkins,” John said, his voice sympathetic. 

The woman jumped and looked up at him, “You can just call me Emma, General.” 

“Call me John,” Was his reply, “I wanted to thank you for all the sacrifices you’ve made over the past month. I and my companions have been watching over you guys and I have found myself impressed time and time again by your tenacity. You are one helluva strong woman...Paul thinks so too.”

At the mention of Paul's name, the woman’s eyes lit up, “Paul...is he-”

“Eager to return to you? Yes,” John said, a kind smile on his face, “You’ve got a good man for a soulbond, Mis-Emma.”

John smiled again, “He was the one who let me and Ethan return before him, and he was the reason you guys were able to find a way to free us...and he loves you immeasurably, Emma, I hope you know that.” 

Emma’s eyes softened, “Thank you, Gen- John.”

“Let's get him out of there as soon as possible, yes?” he asked her, to which she nodded vehemently, murmuring a small ‘thank you’ as John and Xander left.

“Even in the Black and White, you never lost your faith in people?” Xander asked, looking into John’s green eyes. 

“Never.” the man answered, pressing a kiss to Xander’s forehead. 

Xander smiled. He could have cried for all he cared. 

All they needed to do was finish this mission and he could continue in life with his husband back and PEIP restored to a proper place. 

For the first time in forever, Xander Lee felt completely happy. 

\---

Paul smiled as he re-emerged into the Black and White, having watched Xander and John’s reunion. The smile that had grown on his face as he saw the way John had smoothly walked forward and kissed his husband smack-dab in front of everybody. He would never have taken John for such a dramatic type. As John had been led over to the triage station for medical evaluation, he overheard everything John had said to Emma, and he could only smile. 

He was going home to her today.

It was his turn. 

He knew both Foster girls needed a few moments to collect themselves before coming to get him, so he would wait patiently.

He knew that he had some minor wounds inflicted upon him when he’d first been sucked into the Black and White would probably affect him when he was rematerialized but if they could treat Ethan then it was certainly nothing they couldn’t handle. He wasn’t afraid of the pain. 

He just wanted to see and be seen by Emma. He couldn’t believe that he was about to get home to her. He’d spent such a great portion of his life not looking forward to anything, but he was vibrating with excitement as he waited for Lex and Hannah’s forms to return for him. 

He wondered what things would be like when he returned. 

Would their relationship be different?

Would they pick up where they left off?

Would they just smile at one another and know that everything was going to be okay?

Would they stay with PEIP still, given the circumstances and knowledge of the coming apocalypse?

For once in his life all of the ‘what’s’ didn’t seem to have any bearing on his mind as they would normally have. He was going to be reunited with Emma today, in one way or another. 

He smiled brightly as the figure of Lex and Hannah appeared in the distance, their hands clasped tightly together. It was time. 

“ _Paul!_ ” Hannah called out, pointing in his direction as she had for Ethan and John. 

He walked toward them, joy in every step, but still moving swiftly. For a moment, Hannah’s image seemed to flicker for a moment. 

She turned to her sister, “Webby told me to break off. You get Paul,” she whispered, just as he was in earshot before her image faded completely. Lex seemed to accept this and kept her hand extended. They could trust Webby, so Paul wasn’t concerned. 

Lex was two yards away from him and the excitement was thrumming in his veins furiously. While he was nervous about the journey back, he couldn’t have been happier that he had a new chance at life. A new life with Emma. A second chance-

“ _Excited, Paul?”_ A singsong voice drifted through the air making his blood run cold and his excitement suddenly disappeared. 

He whirled around to see a woman, bathed in blue light. Her hair was made of a translucent fluid, and her dress was made of starlight, it seemed. She regarded him with an almost predatory gaze. 

“ _That's wonderful,”_ she said, her tone melodic, and her words perfect lyrics, “ _Although...I am sad...You didn’t say goodbye.”_

His mind raced. He had no idea what he was staring at, but he could tell that it could be no one that meant anything good. Although, there was something strangely familiar in the light that she gave off, in the lyrical tone of her voice.

In spite of the beauty that surrounded this...woman...he was struck with a kind of cold fear. 

Lex suddenly seemed much farther away than before. 

“Who…” he managed to choke on her words, his hands shaking at his sides, “Who are you?” 

She laughed, a horrifyingly beautiful sound, “ _Oh Paul...I thought you’d recognize me best out of everyone...you were my favorite, after all.”_

“What the hell does that mean?”

“ _It means I only wanted to give you a little going away present…”_ she said, opening her mouth wider to reveal rows of sharp teeth, “ _...before you return to your sweet, sweet Emma.”_

“I don’t want your gift. I-I’m going home,” he said shakily. 

He tried to turn on his heel but found that he was stuck in his place. He looked down to see a sea of blue slime, gluing him to his place, “What the hell is this?”

“ _I gave you such sweet refrains to sing for her when you gave her salvation,”_ she whispered as she moved closer, making him tense up in fear “ _And this is how you thank me?”_

“L-Let me go…” he pleaded with her, trying to keep his tone even and still, fighting against the tremors that made his voice wobble helplessly, “L-Let me go...please.”

She laughed that horrible laugh again, throwing her head back, “ _Oh, I’m going to let you go Paul...but I’m sending you back with a gift.”_

As she closed in on him, he could only scream. 

\---

Emma fidgetted nervously in her seat. 

Ethan and John had returned, now it was Paul’s turn. 

It was easy and simple...so why was it taking them so long?

Lex had been standing in front of the portal for about ten minutes, her arms held out like she was a statue. About five minutes beforehand, Hannah had broken off, explaining only that she had found him and that Webby had told her to break off, leaving Lex to do her job. 

That struck a little bit of an odd cord with Emma, but she didn’t care. 

Hannah had _found_ him. And Lex was in the process of bringing him back.

She wrote off her unease as her insufferable impatience, which had gotten her into trouble several times growing up, and simply watched the portal. 

Hannah, after breaking off from Lex, had come to sit beside her on one of the free gurneys, swinging her feet off the side as she hummed to herself. On the two gurneys behind them, Ethan was still snoring softly, while John was getting his blood checked upon and making sure his vitals weren’t going crazy. Becky was smiling and chattering away as she took vial after vial of the General’s blood. Had it been her, Emma would have lost it within the first few minutes of getting her blood drawn, but the General didn’t seem to mind. 

She tapped her hands ceaselessly against her thighs as she watched Lex like a hawk. The eighteen-year-old hadn’t moved from her spot in what was now twelve minutes. 

Hannah muttered something to herself, and her hands went to her temples, making Emma turn towards her.

“You okay, Hannah?” she asked, placing a hand beside the girl.

“Something wrong…” she muttered, “Blue. Songs. Cheat.”

Her heart raced inside her chest, “Somethings wrong? Did Webby say that?” 

Hannah shook her head as her voice grew more desperate, “Not Webby. Me. I see. Cheat. Liar. Blue.”

“Hannah?” John spoke from behind them. He looked at Emma, concern in his green eyes, “Is she okay?”

“I-I don’t know…” Emma stammered. 

Suddenly, Hannah’s muttering turned into guttural shrieking.

“ _Liar! Unfair game! Cheater! Cheater!”_ The child screamed, all the while clutching her head and crying, “ _Cheater! Cheater! Cheater!”_

As Hannah’s screaming continued, John moved forward and offered a hand to the girl. 

“What’s wrong, Hannah?” He asked, “What do you see?” 

“ _CHEATER!”_ She shouted, sobbing as she did, “ _CHEATER!! UNFAIR GAME!! BLUE! PUPPET!”_

 _“_ W-what...what does she mean?” Emma pleaded with John, who’d gone deathly pale. 

Just then, a flash of white emanated from the portal as Lex moved backward, snapping out of her statue-like state. A slumped over figure appeared in front of the portal...she didn’t have time to process this as an uproar arose. 

There was a commotion, as one of the people at the monitors screamed out to Hidgens, “Residual energy from the Black and White detected, sir!” 

“Cut the power, Captain Houston!” Hidgens ordered Tom, who complied and immediately relayed the order to everyone else. 

As the light began to fade from the portal, she could make out a figure, crumpled to the ground in front of it. Limp and still. With a chill, she realized… familiar. And still, it lay there...like a corpse. 

It had to be him.

She was supposed to be joyful...but all she could feel was this sinking, lead-like, horrific sense of dread. 

The portal hadn’t been completely shut down as she tried to move her wheelchair towards him. Even as the machinery shut down and Schaeffer yelled at her to return, she kept going.

She had to get to him. 

She hadn’t just gotten him back to lose him again. 

The light from the portal faded and she could hear Lex shouting something to Xander as she ran over to cradle the whimpering Hannah, “I could sense something else...It was him...but there was someone else! I swear, Xander!”

Her wheelchair squeaked against the floor as it hit a power box and she was sent tumbling out of it. With a groan, she realized she was on the floor, her stiff limbs complaining. 

Still, she pulled herself forward, moving towards the limp figure that was growing more and more familiar by the second. Her heart pounded against her chest, making her ribs tighten and her breath go rapid. 

As a few agonizing moments passed, she recognized his limp form and his name left her lips in a shaky whisper. 

“P-Paul?” she reached out as she scooted over to be near him, pulling him to her. 

In spite of the complaints of her arms and her legs, she pushed him over, rolling him onto his back. Panic seizing her heart as she did. He didn’t appear to be breathing. 

His beautiful eyes were closed and his hair was messed up, hanging in his face. 

She pulled his head onto her lap as tears streamed down her face and fell onto his. 

It was him.

He was home.

But something was wrong. 

“Paul…” she whispered, running her hands through his hair, her voice shaking, “Come on, baby, it’s me...It's Em…”

She looked pleadingly over to Becky and Dr. Abadi, who was already setting up a gurney to bring to them, when a small groan sounded from her lap and movement against her caught her attention. She looked down as he eased himself off of her lap. 

“Paul?” she whispered, helping him up into a seated position, letting him fall against her. Her hands threaded into his soft hair as tears streamed from her eyes.

“Em-Emma?” her name left his mouth in an awful raspy whisper. 

She nodded, “Yeah...it’s me...you’re safe, I promise…”

With a quick, sharp exhale, he began to shake against her, and she realized very quickly that he...he was crying. 

“Em-Em…” he choked out, his words muffled against her shoulder. 

She nodded and ran her hand comfortingly up and his back, “Y-Yeah Paul, it’s me...you-you're safe now.”

She pushed him gently off of her as she cupped his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead. With a start, she realized that his eyes were still squeezed shut. 

The sound of bounding footprints echoed behind her as the General came running up. He sank to the floor a little ways behind her. 

“Paul?” his voice boomed, filled with concern, “Are you alright?” 

He sobbed harder, tears streaming down his face. 

“I think he’s in pain,” she said, her eyes darting over to the triage area, panic growing in her chest, “Please, we need help over here!”

“E-Em-Emma,” he whispered, his voice cracking with sorrow.

“Yeah...yeah, baby,” she whispered gently, setting her forehead against his, her shaky arms still holding him up, “It’s me...It’s me, you’re home...you’re safe now.”

He shook his head and a pained cry escaped his lips, making her heart shatter. 

“Paul?!” she whispered, fearing the worst, “Paul tell me what’s wrong... _please_.”

“Em-Emma...” he whispered, his face relaxing slightly.

“I’m here…” she whispered back, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He opened his eyes, and her heart sank with the weight of dread. 

His eyes weren’t the soft pale blue she’d fallen in love with. 

They were a bright, voracious, neon blue. 

Tears still fell in thick, slimy torrents as he opened his mouth, his face suddenly contorted in regret and self-loathing.

He opened his mouth...and a horrific melody left it. 

“ _Emmaaaa...I’m sorry...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. 
> 
> Sorry guys. 
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos to yell at me over this chapter and let me know what you think!  
> Even though I emotionally torment you guys, I appreciate you all so much!!  
> Thank you so much for reading!!!


	27. Why Does the Truth Seem Too Hard to Be True?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone loses their shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "I Know Those Eyes, This Man is Dead" from the Frank Wildhorn Musical "The Count of Monte Cristo".   
> It really gives me infected!Paul and Emma vibes and is honestly a bop.

Reset No. 6

Date: August 3rd, 2018

Being Unknown 

“ _ Emmaaaa... I’m sorry…” _

_ No,  _ John's blood ran cold,  _ That couldn’t be.  _

As soon as the notes left Paul’s lips, John sprang into action. He scooted forward, quickly pulling a very confused Emma away from the sobbing, singing man in front of him. 

Emma struggled against his grasp, “What’re you doing? He needs help!”

“Emma I’ve got to-”

“ _ Emmaaaaaa,” _ Paul sang out, immediately pulling his hands up to his face as the tears fell ceaselessly. He slumped down against the ground, almost wrestling with himself. John could see the terror and pain that was in the man’s gaze. 

“Paul…” Emma whimpered, “Please...let me help him!”

“Emma you’ve got to get away from him,” John said as he pulled the squirming woman away, “You need to get away…”

“What’s wrong with him?” She cried as she stopped struggling, looking horrified as Paul writhed in agony on the ground. 

The images of the first reset bloomed in his mind. The blue. The explosions. The dance of death that had enveloped so many lives and robbed them of all individuality. 

Paul was facing it...again. 

Only...it appeared he was unwilling.

Like he was fighting it. 

Emma struggled against John’s hold as Paul seemed to curl into the ground, even more, his tears pooling on the ground. He didn’t appear to be actively hostile, but the notes and lyrics that he was hearing pour from the man's lips were unsettling. 

“ _ Emmaaa...I’m sorry…”  _ he musically whimpered, “ _ I...looooooossstttt….” _

_ “ _ What?” She whimpered in John’s grasp, “What does he mean….”

“ _ Emmaaaa...I’m sorry… that I _ can’t stay…” the last few words were choked up talking, but the music was back, “ _ Please don’t cry-Emma, darling, don’t you shed a tear…”  _

He slapped his hands over his mouth as the tears fell from his eyes quickly, getting thicker and turning a much deeper blue, “ _ Would you please not mourn me, Emma-” _

_ BANG! _

Paul shuddered suddenly, cutting the song off. His too-blue eyes were blown wide. The sound of something that wasn’t quite a gunshot rang in John’s ears. 

Paul began to twitch, his eyes rolling back as he slumped to the ground, his white shirt soaked with the blue ooze. 

On the side of his neck, John could just make out the metallic shape of a dart, perfectly piercing his neck. An expert shot. 

He turned to see the turtleneck clad professor make his way towards them, the barrel of his gun smoking...which was not probable given the fact that it was a dart gun rather than an actual shotgun or rifle. 

The professor regarded the blue-soaked man in front of him with intrigue, using his foot to move him over, studying him. 

“What…” Emma was seething against John, her panic turning into pure anger, “ _ What did you do?!?” _ she screamed at her professor, who’d stooped down to collect some of the blue substance on his fingertips. Suddenly, instead of pulling Emma back to safety, John was keeping the professor safe from Emma’s wrath. 

The professor ignored her as he inspected the unconscious Paul, rendering John angry in a way he could never have expected. 

“We need to get him isolated,” Hidgens said, looking over at Xander, who had been watching the scene dumbfounded, “Lee...have it transported to an isolated wing...I’ll meet you there and we can find a way to eliminate it.”

“The last I checked,  _ Hidgens, _ ” John seethed, “You don’t give Major Lee orders.”

Hidgens sneered, “Like you don’t know what  _ this  _ is?” he gestured to the limp form of Paul, looking nearly lifeless as blue leaked from his ears, eyes, and nose. For a brutal moment, John was reminded of how Emma had looked when she had gone comatose. 

“This will destroy us all!” the professor went on, “We must have it isolated and do everything in our power to destroy it!” 

“ _ You’re talking about him like he’s not a fucking person!”  _ Emma screamed, her rage pouring into her voice as tears streamed down her face. 

“My dear,” Hidgens started, his voice and face blank, “The Paul you knew and loved was gone the moment a note came out of his mouth.”

“ _ NO!”  _ She screamed again, “You  _ don’t  _ fucking know that!! He’s fighting it!!”

Hidgens said nothing, staring down at Paul with nothingness in his eyes.

“He-He’s fighting it…” Emma said, her voice breaking down as she spoke, “I-I know he is...I know he is…”

Emma moved out of John's arms, and he didn’t even try to stop her. She crawled towards Paul, but Hidgens was faster, he moved the barrel of his dart gun to Paul’s head. 

“Stop right there, Emma,” He warned, “This is a sedative, but another hit could send him into respiratory failure so fast there’ll be no human left to save…”

“There,  _ there!” _ she exclaimed, desperation in her voice, “You said there could be human there...he’s fighting it, Hidgens...Please…”

Her eyes went wide as she tried to edge closer. Hidgens cocked the barrel of his gun, still aimed at Paul’s head. 

“Don’t you  _ dare,”  _ Emma snarled. 

“Calm down!” Tom yelled as he ran towards the group from the monitor, “Hidgens, put the gun down…”

“You don’t know what this is!!!” The old man screeched, “I do! It could wipe us out before we even knew what hit us...Tell them, John!!”

Emma turned to John, her eyes wide and pleading, tears dripping from her eyes. 

Memories of the infection flooded his mind as he looked down at the figure of Paul, limp and helpless as the people alive tried desperately to decide his fate then and there. 

“If we don’t put it down now-” Hidgens started, making Emma let out a small scream at the implication. 

“He’s not a  _ fucking animal,”  _ Tom snarled.

“He’s as good as!” Hidgens retorted, making Emma scoff, “You don’t know  _ what  _ this is...I do! I’ve seen it!”

“The decision isn’t yours to make,” Schaeffer chimed in, taking her place behind John. 

“Whose then?” The professor demanded, “Your General? As I recall, he’s no General in this lifetime, sweetheart.”

June snarled, and her hand went to her firearm. Xander held his hand out to keep her from shooting the old man. 

“John McNamara is more of a leader than  _ you’ll ever be,  _ Professor,” Xander snarled, his tone deadly.

“Oh...are those the words of a Major...or of a wedding band?” The professor snapped back, his voice laced with acid, “Let's face it...the only one of us who actually knows how to deal with this...this  _ thing-” _

“He is  _ not a thing!!”  _ Emma screeched, her anger reverberating throughout the room, “He is a person!!! He has a fucking name!!”

“The only one who knows how to deal with this thing is me!” Hidgens shouted, ignoring Emma’s protests, “We have to wipe it out before it kills us first!!” 

“He didn’t show any aggression at all!” Becky shouted, having joined the group with Dr. Abadi and a gurney, “How do you know he would have killed us? Your bullshit visions?”

“Have they been wrong?” Hidgens demanded, whirling on her, “Let me tell you,  _ Becky Barnes-Peterson,  _ I’ve seen things that would render everyone disgusted with you- with what you are…”

“Hey!” Tom shouted as Becky went pale, her hands shaking at her side, “Don’t you talk to her like that!!”

“My point is,” Hidgens went on, uncaring of all the commotion he was causing, “If we let this...this  _ monster  _ live...he will destroy us all! The only way to prevent it is by killing him first.”

“No.”

A much younger voice joined them. 

Everyone turned to see Hannah, standing behind her, clutching Lex’s hand. Her eyes were red and puffy as she had just finished crying. 

“Distraction,” she whispered, “Not strong enough. Still there. Not gone.”

Hidgens scoffed, “How could Webby possibly know that...this is beyond her power...”

“Not Webby,” she cut him off, her eyes scarily steady, “Me. _ I  _ know he’s there.”

Emma sighed and looked down at Paul’s still frame. Her eyes filled with a grief John had seen on Paul’s face when she’d died.

“I think the decision should be up to  _ our  _ General,” Tom said, his voice steely as he stared Hidgens down with a death glare. 

“I agree,” June confirmed, her hand still resting on her firearm, her gaze resolute. 

Hidgens sighed and looked at Hannah, “Oh, come on...you’ve seen it too, Hannah, you know what this is capable of.” 

“Not strong enough,” Came her calm reply, “Distraction. Can be saved.”

John watched as Emma’s eyes remained on Paul, almost like she was worried Hidgens would pull the trigger if she looked away for just a second. 

“John…” she whispered, her voice shaky but trying desperately to remain strong, “What’s your call?” 

John looked down at Paul’s form, shaky breaths almost invisible and inaudible. With every small exhalation, the small sounds of strangled notes barely made their way through. He felt confused. 

On one hand, he still saw the devastation of the apotheosis. He’d gone back and reviewed that reset over and over again. He’d watched the way that the musical aliens dismembered, tortured, and murdered, all in the name of developing a fictitious utopia. A reality in which conformity was the only answer. The only answer to life and death was to follow a shared rhythm, and anyone who dared oppose the cerulean plague, the death that tantalized and ensnared even the strongest of souls, was made to be destroyed. 

He’d seen the way Paul had fallen. He’d watched it several times.

He’d seen the way the man had climbed out of the wreckage of a helicopter that had once meant salvation and had made a decision that could give the love of his life another chance at one. Paul had known what the risks were, and he still fought back. 

That resistance had made him pay dearly...and even now he was paying for it again. 

From that first time in the Starlight Theater, where his body was slowly and painfully being played like a puppet on invisible threads, to now, where the chances of a happy reunion with Emma had been extinguished, Paul was still the favorite of Apatha. 

Guilt rose in his throat. 

If only he’d gone last instead of Paul. Then, Paul wouldn’t have fallen victim to one force that loved to see him suffer for her own personal gain. Then, maybe, Paul and Emma would be happily reuniting instead of him being unconscious and her having to plead with her insane professor for his life. 

Of  _ course, _ Apatha would have waited until John was gone and Hannah couldn’t see anymore to overtake Paul. While the fabric was still weak, it was the perfect chance to overtake him and try and lay claim to a world that wasn’t hers. 

They couldn’t let it be hers. 

On one hand, letting Paul live meant having another Apotheosis on their hands. Another surge of musical death and destruction around every corner...but on the other, Hannah had said that it wasn’t strong enough. 

What could that mean? 

He remembered that in the first Apotheosis, there was a source of the spores and plague...a meteor that had decimated the ceiling of the Starlight...it had served as a sort of source for Apatha’s influence...an attempt at planting a permanent seed. Paul had failed in his pursuits to destroy it, and that had led to the death of both himself and later, Emma.

But...there was no meteor or other source within the reality, was there?

No, Paul's newfound infection  _ had  _ to be the result of a last-ditch effort on Apatha’s part. 

There was no way that Apatha could have suddenly managed to send a meteor into Hatchetfield...she couldn’t even send a rock. For one thing, the fabric had already strengthened with Ethan and John’s return, and for another, it wasn’t her turn in the game. 

Hannah had yelled the word ‘cheater’ over and over again when they’d first gotten the sign of something wrong. She had to mean that Apatha was trying to get a stake in the game, right? Nothing else would have made sense. The fact that Paul was there to serve as a vector was only a matter of cruel convenience...and if there was no source on Hatchetfield to maintain the infection and maintain order, then Paul still had a chance. 

He looked back down at Paul, the barrel of the gun still positioned at his temple and he knew what he had to do. 

“We’re going to isolate him...quarantine him,” John sighed, trying to get the words off of his tongue before Emma could protest, “Until we can find a way to save him.”

“ _ Save him? _ ” The old man was incredulous, “ _ Have you lost your fucking mind?”  _

“If Hannah says he’s saveable...then, he’s saveable…” John said, keeping his tone even, “Paul hasn’t shown any signs of aggression, like in the previous resets...he’s even been noticeably fighting it. If there’s a chance we can save him, we’re taking it.”

“B-But…” Hidgens sputtered, “You’ve seen what happened the first time...if this thing-”

“ _ His name is Paul _ ,” Emma snarled, her tone vicious, “...and you heard the General...Orders are orders.”

The old man let out a humorless chuckle, “You don’t even realize how ridiculously stupid you’re all being...Emma, I expected more from you...You don’t know what this infection has done to the man you once loved.”

“Wrong.” she said, her tone steely as she glared up at him, tearing her eyes away from Paul for once, “I still love him...and we  _ will  _ find a way to save him.”

Hidgens nodded, scoffing under his breath, “I know you’d be willing to bet your life on it...but would you be willing to bet your nephew’s life-”

“Don’t you dare talk-” Tom started furiously before being cut off. 

“Would you risk Hannah’s life? Or Lex’s life? Or Ethans?” 

“No risk,” Hannah said with a small snarl of her own, “Not worse.”

Hidgens scoffed again, “You can’t be-”

“Real problem...much badder,” Hannah murmured, her eyes filled with seriousness. Gesturing to Paul, she went on “Not the real risk.”

The old man let out a long sigh and turned away, the aim of his gun unaltered. Emma scooted forward slightly, trying desperately to be closer to Paul, who was still rendered pitifully unconscious. 

Hidgens turned back and looked at John, “Do you realize what you’re doing?” 

John nodded, “Yes.”

“And what is that exactly?” 

John sighed, annoyed that he had to explain himself to a delusional maniac like Professor Hidgens, “I’m saving an innocent man...a good man...from his own personal hell.”

Emma sniffed and moved closer, holding a hand out to brush against Paul’s hair, still slightly sticky with the slime that was pouring from his ears. She let out a small cry when her fingers brushed the cool metal of the barrel of the gun, before looking up at Hidgens, ferocity in her voice.

“ _ Put. The gun. Down _ .”

The professor sighed, “Emma…”

“You heard John,” she snarled, returning to her furious state, “We’re going to save him. Now put it down.”

“Dr. Hidgens,” Schaeffer spoke, her voice official, “If you don’t comply with the General’s orders, we can detain you.” 

“Please,” Xander began, “Please don’t make this any more difficult.”

The Professor’s mad eyes darted over the people opposing him. He knew he was outnumbered. He had to know. Between Emma’s fury and Schaeffer’s sudden dislike of the man, as well as Xander’s persistence in backing John as a general, there was absolutely no way he was going to get away with trying to kill Paul. 

John wouldn’t let that happen. 

Paul was a good man who didn’t deserve to be killed for something he couldn’t control. 

Hannah was right, he knew. She had to be.

She was wiser than himself, or even the professor. So, if she proclaimed that Paul wasn’t the real problem and that saving him was a possibility, he would do whatever he could to save him. 

He owed an awful lot to Paul Matthews and Emma Perkins.

And he was going to do all that he could to repay them. 

The professor let out a hefty sigh before looking from the faces of the PEIP personnel, to Paul and Emma, still hunched on the floor. After an agonizing few moments, he lowered his gun and began to walk away before pivoting on his heel. 

“I’ll help you in your attempts to cure him,” he said, his voice grave, “But I am warning you...we make one wrong move and we might just cause the apocalypse.”

John gestured for Becky and Dr. Abadi to move forward with the gurney, moving it as close as they could to the limp frame of Paul. 

“Put gloves and masks on,” he told them, keeping his voice serious, “Whatever you do, avoid contact with the blue fluid as much as possible.” 

The two women nodded and applied the appropriate protective equipment before kneeling down. With the assistance of Tom and John, they heaved the tall, tranquilized man off of the floor and out of the puddle of blue slime before placing him on the gurney, strapping him down. 

Xander regarded the figure of Paul, his eyes filled with sadness and anguish. 

John leaned into his husband’s side, “Am I doing the right thing?” 

Xander looked at him, eyes wide. He spoke with no hesitation, “Yes. You’re saving a man’s life.” 

“But what if I’ve doomed the rest of us?” John asked, suddenly unsure of his return to PEIP as a general. 

“John,” Xander said with a comforting smile, as the gurney carrying Paul began to move to the isolation quadrant of the infirmary, “You wouldn’t be a General if you weren’t trusted with making the right decisions...this is the right one. Otherwise, Hidgens would have killed him.”

John nodded, “He’s a good man, Xander, he didn’t deserve this.”

“Damn right, he didn’t,” Tom’s voice came as he joined them, “What did Hannah mean when she kept repeating the word ‘distraction’?”

“I don’t know…” John said as he shook his head, watching as the gurney carrying Paul disappeared from view, “...but I do know that we’re about to get a lot more than we all bargained for.”

He turned around and saw that Emma was still kneeling in front of the puddle of blue slime that had started to dry. She appeared to be in a trance of some kind, the shock of the events clearly taking a toll.

“Emma?” he asked and her eyes snapped up to him.

“Oh...um,” she stammered as she tried to scramble to her feet. Her legs didn’t comply so she remained on the ground, “Sorry...I just-uh...I just needed a moment.”

“I get it,” he said with a nod, as Xander went to grab her wheelchair from where it had toppled over. 

He knelt down next to her. 

“It’s going to be okay, Emma,” he said, “I hope you know that.”

“I don’t,” came her cold reply, “I don’t even know why this is happening...why does this stupid shit keep happening?” 

John shook his head. He understood the sentiment. It was a question that had circulated in his mind in the lifetimes that he’d occupied the Black and White. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered, looking at her, “But we have to have faith-”

She scoffed, “Faith in what? I  _ died  _ two days ago. We just managed to pull you, Ethan, and..." she paused on the name, the bitterness and pain evident in her gaze, "And Paul out of a Black and White hellscape, and now my soulmate is singing uncontrollably while my crazy professor tried to blow his head off…”

“You got me there,” He sighed, helping her into the wheelchair that Xander returned, “I suppose we just need to have faith in Paul, then.”

That seemed to satisfy her. She nodded to herself and started to roll herself in the direction that the nurses and doctors had gone in. 

John turned to Xander, “God, I hope I’m right.” 

Xander nodded encouragingly, “You’re General John fuckin’ McNamara...infuriatingly enough, you’re never wrong.”

“Except for the right way to load dishes?” He joked with a wry smile.

Xander groaned, “Oh God, I could have lived without that memory.”

John smiled and took his husband's hand, “Let's go save the world together, huh?” 

\---

_ He floated endlessly amongst a sea of blue.  _

_ A swirling void of cerulean and marine that made his head spin.  _

_ He could see nothing...but oh, he could hear  _ everything _.  _

_ The colors were literally loud. The screaming and crying amongst the nebulous vacuums of blue had molded itself into a symphony.  _

_ One that resembled a siren song.  _

_ Alluring, but terrifying.  _

_ They begged him to join in.  _

_ To sing along.  _

_ To join their chorus of death.  _

_ To smile at the mindless harmonies.  _

_ But he refused. _

_ He had to.  _

_ He may have traded a black void for a blue one, but Paul Matthews was going to fight it with his whole being.  _

_ He had to fight the real danger.  _

_ He had to win.  _

_ This was a battle he couldn’t lose.  _

_The void was swallowing him in the volume and lyrical death._

_Everything was too loud._

_Too loud._

_Too much._

_Still, in spite of how much it broke him, he kept fighting._

_For Emma._

_No matter how much his ears hurt._

_No matter how much his eyes burned._

_No matter how small he felt._

_No matter how much his body protested at his resistance._

_No matter how much the force of blue tortured him for every note stifled._

_He would do his best to survive._

_For Emma._

_Always for Emma._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John is a good general and a good man.   
> In the end, it's always for Emma in Paul's book.   
> He'd walk through hell and back for her.   
> I sure hope things don't get worse if Paul's not the *real* threat. 
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you would like to let me know how I'm doing!!!  
> I hope you all have a fantastic day!!!  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	28. So Close Your Eyes, Remember My Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidgens isn't fond of his new line of work.  
> Emma disobeys orders with some help.  
> Paul is dragged deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name for this chapter comes from the song "I Will be There" from the Count of Monte Cristo musical (This song ALSO gives me huge Paulkins vibes)
> 
> The song is also where the lyrics (bolded words) later on in the chapter come from.

Reset No. 6

Date: August 7th, 2018

Being Unknown

It had been four days since they’d managed to retrieve the three souls from the Black and White, and Henry was furious. 

They should have heeded his warning. 

They should have put a bullet in the alien’s brain the second it started singing to Emma. 

It didn’t matter how much it looked like Paul Matthews. 

The man was dead.

No matter how painful the truth was, Henry knew that the real Paul Matthews had never made it out of the Black and White. 

He was the only one who wasn’t hellbent on being so...so goddamned foolish. 

Still, he’d been outvoted and outranked. While he was enlisted in trying to find a cure for the...thing...Hidgens was always watched by another agent of PEIP. Whether it was Rodney or Barnes, or even Captain Houston on occasion, they were always watching him. Making sure he didn’t do the right thing. 

Only a few people were allowed into the private wing, to work on the cure for the alien. 

There was Dr. Abadi, Xander, Captain Houston, Colonel Schaeffer, members of Dr. Abadi’s staff like the Barnes woman and Nurse Chapel, Hidgens himself, and General McNamara.

Hidgens had forbidden Emma from coming to see him. That was his only term for working with them. Emma would have ruined too much. She would have seen too much and then she would’ve...he pushed those thoughts away. 

If Emma hadn’t been so bonded with this person, he would have still killed it. 

Still, there was Hannah.

The little girl was far more powerful than he was, for now. She saw more, even without the assistance of Webby...therefore she knew more. She was a problem. Her sister too. 

And now that their protector was back, it was going to make his means to an end extremely painful and difficult. 

Then there was the General.

He’d been reinstated as a General, mere hours after emerging from the portal and had seen to it that all the efforts they could spare, went towards benefitting Paul’s recovery and preparing for whatever this reset had to throw at them. 

In spite of Hidgens’ belief that the man was an idiot for having so much faith in Paul’s return, he had to acknowledge that the man knew how to get stuff done. Within hours of his return, PEIP was suddenly running more efficiently than it had when Hidgens had first gotten there. Everything seemed more organized and more smooth than it had before. No wonder PEIP had been so willing to accept him back. 

A small beeping sounded from a monitor behind him and Henry sighed, picking up a small syringe filled with an amber fluid from a tray where a row of them sat.

“Is it time already?” Becky asked, her eyebrow rising suspiciously from where she was updating the charts and lab work. 

He nodded. 

Ever since he’d hinted at knowing what the Barnes woman was...what she’d done...she’d regarded him with suspicion and anger, he hadn’t thought her capable of. She monitored every single move he made with tenacity and had grown extremely protective of the alien in a sense. Whether or not it was on Emma’s behalf or for Captain Houston, or what memories she’d had of her friendship with Paul Matthews, Hidgens wasn’t sure. 

The alien that had once been named Paul Matthews was kept under constant sedation at Hidgens’ insistence. He’d seen enough of what had happened in past lifetimes to not take risks. The sedative was powerful enough to keep him unconscious, unable to sing or say anything, but diluted enough (at General McNamara’s orders) that would keep him alive. 

To everyone else, he looked like a comatose patient. 

Henry knew better. 

He knew better than everyone. 

This was no man. He was a monster. 

And yet they kept him alive. 

His eyes were closed, concealing the blue glow that insisted he was no longer human. Like Emma had possessed a mere week before, he had a breathing tube extended down his windpipe to keep him alive in case the sedative dosage was a little too concentrated. He’d been cuffed down to the bed to keep any dancing urges contained. He almost looked feverish as well, his brow shining with sweat. However, instead of his temperature rising, his body temperature had fallen below the norm. 

He pushed the syringe into one of the many catheters they’d inserted over his body. This time into the one on his neck, kept in place by pressure bandages. He flinched for a moment before his movement was hindered by the sedative itself. 

Henry sighed before returning to examine the blood samples, sighing as he saw the red blood cells stained blue...a voracious, ugly shade of blue that screamed at him to get his rifle and put the thing to death immediately. Of course, those were only yesterday’s samples.

He’d seen things in these samples, though, things that they’d never be able to completely understand.

He could use that to his advantage. 

He tossed the used slides into the trash, as well as made a point to back up all the data before locking the computer. Behind him, Becky was checking the alien's vitals, adjusting settings on 

The sound of the door to the isolation wing opening snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see the General standing in the doorway. In spite of Hidgens hostility and anger towards the man’s naivete, he’d managed to remain cordial and polite with every interaction...a quality that infuriated Hidgens. Xander walked in behind him, clearly a much happier man now 

“Professor,” The man greeted, nodding, “How are things?”

Henry sighed, keeping his voice cool and hostile “Things would be fine if you let me do the right thing.” 

“Professor, as we’ve established,” Xander said, his tone warning, “If you so much as mention depriving Mr. Matthews of his life, then we will have you detained and placed on-”

“Yes, yes, so you’ve reminded me,” Hidgens said, his voice filled with acid, “Well, you’ll be happy to know that the infection is making itself at home in his cells.”

The General nodded, “Go on.”

“The infection is growing in his cells,” Hidgens said with a sigh, “It's slower, but it will eventually overtake him…”

The General sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, glancing over at Paul, “So find a cure, Professor. We’re not giving up on him.”

“It's not that simple,” Henry argued, “You know what this is capable of...this is going to destroy us if we let the infection run its course.”

“Then I suggest you don’t and find a cure,” The General’s tone was strict but fair, “If not for Paul’s wellbeing, then for the wellbeing of the world.”

Henry sighed, “The wellbeing of the world would be-”

“Don’t even suggest it,” The General spoke with a cold tone, “Paul Matthews is a good man.”

“Yes, so you’ve said,” Henry sighed, “But when are you going to understand that man is dead?”

“Hannah says he’s still there,” Xander spoke, moving to his husband’s side, “And I, for one, am inclined to believe her.”

“Hannah Foster is delusional-”

“Don’t you fucking dare speak against her,” Xander snarled, “She’s been more help to our cause than you, _doctor..._ and I know for certain that she is more correct in the statement that there is something worse ahead.”

Hidgens sighed, “Fine. If you want to send the world to suicide...then do it. I will still help, but only because you can’t do it without me…”

He hung up his lab coat, “I’m taking a lunch break...I will return in forty-five minutes.”

“Professor?” Xander asked, his voice contemplative, “Can you reconsider giving Emma access? She’s been barking up my division to find out where he is...if I keep turning her down-”

“No!” Hidgens snapped, “Emma Perkins is not to be allowed around this alien being...for her own safety.”

“For her own safety?” the General asked, his eyebrow rising, “From my point of view, Emma could be a major help in this case...you yourself once claimed she was one of your most reliable students…”

“Yes, I won’t deny it…” Hidgens said with a sigh, “But she is way too close to this case...she could have her judgment clouded over time and time again...she _jeopardizes_ the mission.”

“You don’t know that…” Xander started.

“Yes, I do!” Hidgens shouted, “Emma stays away, end of discussion.”

With that Henry left the room. 

_Fools,_ he thought bitterly, _every last one of them._

He stormed out towards the cafeteria, nearly careening into several technologists as he did. 

He did want to develop a cure, he knew. A cure was something that couldn’t be avoided. But he knew that the destruction that could rain down upon the world if the Apotheosis was spawned once more…

That wasn’t the _real_ reason he wanted Paul dead.

But it was a good lie.

Enough to fool the goody-goody General. 

It was also why he had to keep Emma away from him.

Emma was the only one who could pin it on him. No matter how closely Becky or the good general observed, Emma was the one who could really lead him to his guilt. Especially if it applied to the man she was hellbent on saving. Especially if it applied to the man she loved. 

He knew he’d gotten himself into something he wouldn’t be able to get out of as long as those two were around. 

He was supposed to stay dead.

He wasn’t supposed to be saved. 

Luckily, the being of Conformal Order had unwittingly given him a second chance. 

He just needed to be extremely careful when considering how and when to take it. 

One way or another, Emma Perkins or Paul Matthews had to die for him to succeed. 

He thought he’d maybe gotten lucky when Emma flatlined and was declared dead all those days ago...but when he’d gotten news of her revival, he’d tried to foresee any future where he could finish what he’d started. Then Paul had started to sing. Of course, he’d known that the sedative wouldn’t have killed him, but once they’d gotten him isolated he could finish the job. But then, of course, there was the problem of how he’d lost his nerve around them. 

Had he managed to keep his own head, he would have probably been trusted more. He probably would have been able to finish the job straight away without having to worry. Of course, Emma would experience grief beyond imagining, but that was good for him. But alas, he’d lost his coolness and had gotten so wrapped up in his desire to kill Paul, he’d forgotten how fiercely protective everyone was going to be once the memories had returned. 

_Goddammit. If Emma had just died when she was supposed to over a week before, none of it would have gone wrong_. 

Because she lived, his biggest forces of opposition were in the game now. 

Oh well, he could take care of them later.

There was no way they could know what was going on under their noses. 

Soon he’d have his way. 

\---

As soon as Hidgens was out of sight and earshot, Xander poked his head out of the doorway to the isolation room. 

“You’re all clear.”

Emma creeped out from where she’d been hiding (behind a well-placed janitor cart) and crept into the room. 

For the past few days, John and Xander had been visiting Hidgens to check up on Paul’s progress, providing her with details of how he looked and by all accounts, it wasn’t good. 

So, with much begging and pleading (and calling Xander and John out on their bullshit), they’d agreed to sneak her in briefly to see Paul, which was the only thing she wanted right now. 

She’d been in a haze of grief and pain since he’d been taken away. Tom had been the one to announce to her that Hidgens’ only term and condition of staying on the project was that she stayed far away from Paul, which had made her scream and want to throw up. 

What had gotten into Hidgens? 

Suddenly, he was acting much more insane than normal...no...he was acting downright megalomaniacal. 

Naturally, she’d been scheming to sneak herself in to find him the second she was told she couldn’t see him. John and Xander, unfortunately, had her pegged before she could do anything. 

_“You’re planning on breaking in, aren’t you?” Xander asked her with crossed arms as he took in the sight of a poorly-concealed ID card she’d swiped off of Tom when he wasn’t looking._

_She said nothing, her legs shaking with the adrenaline at being caught._

_Of course, she was planning on sneaking in! Her bones were still wrought with the anger at Hidgens for keeping her away from Paul. What was the worst she could do? She still was regaining the ability to walk, for heaven’s sake! Sure, she wanted to lunge at Hidgens every time she caught a glimpse of him in the hallways. His pristine silver hair implemented a sense of anger and disgust that came from the deepest reaches of her wrath. She knew that fighting him would do nothing, so instead, she decided to break in. Plain and simple._

_“Emma…” Xander sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose._

_Beside Xander was John, who was taking in the sights of her new, mostly, unfurnished apartment. He let out a dry chuckle as he looked at the few bags Emma had yet to unpack. She’d been a little preoccupied with seizures at that point, that she’d never gotten around to getting them out._

_Just the morning before, she’d wondered if she was going to share this apartment with Paul while they figured shit out. The thought had been so exciting to her, and now she was numb._

_No. Not numb._

_Furious._

_“So what?” she demanded of him, “I got him back for less than a minute...before all shit broke loose. Now, he’s in the care of my batshit crazy professor, who was threatening to fucking murder him!”_

_She swallowed the sobs that were making their way into her throat. The anger manifesting itself in the form of hot tears that made her head hurt. She refused to let them fall._

_“He’s alive, Emma,” Xander said calmly._

_“All I have for that is your word!” she said, trying very hard not to yell, “I need to see him.”_

_John’s eyes softened noticeably, “It's not enough to know that he’s alive?”_

_“For all, I know you could be lying!” she said, panic making its way into her voice, “In these past few days, I have died, I have remembered a former life with my soulmate, I have experienced so much pain, I have gotten my fucking soulmate back...only to have him infected with some blue shit we don’t understand and then taken away from me again. Who’s to say that Hidgens already hasn’t...” she didn’t finish. The notion of losing him again would have just been the cherry on top of the miserable series of events that characterized her life._

_Part of her had wanted to shout that it wasn’t fair._

_Xander, Lex, and Hannah had gotten John and Ethan back. So why hadn’t she gotten Paul back?_

_Sure, she was happy that John and Ethan were back. She already liked them more than most people she’d had the misfortune of encountering. She was guilty for feeling as envious of what Lex, Hannah, and Xander got, as she was. She truly was happy for them, in spite of her own anger, but above all else, she just wanted Paul back._

_Before remembering, she felt empty. Numb. Like she was on a train that she didn’t know where it was going and every landmark was the same. She felt like she was in a cycle of pain that never ended. And yet, the memories of him had soothed that. Made her feel like she was worth more than what she valued herself at._

_She’d been so hopeful that she was going to get him back. She’d even managed to hold him in her arms for a bit...not quite a reunion hug, but she knew it was better than nothing...and then he’d started to sing._

_John studied her. His green eyes seemed to read every ounce of indignance and pain that was building in her mind._

_“Hidgens takes a lunch break around noon, after Xander and I visit him,” he whispered, almost like he was telling her a deep and dark secret._

_“What?” she was confused, “Why are you-”_

_“Follow us discreetly, and once he leaves, you can see him,” John said, “It won’t be for long...since the only thing keeping Hidgens on is the promise that you won’t be there...but it’s something.”_

_Her eyes widened, “Seriously?”_

_He nodded gravely, “I know how much you and Paul love one another, and I know that if it was me, I would do anything to get back to Xander...so, we’ll help you as much as we can.”_

_Xander looked shocked for a moment, but his eyes softened, “Yes, we will...besides, we outrank the old man anyway.”_

_She sniffed, emotion blossoming in her chest that she swallowed sternly._

_“Th-Thank you...”_

So, there she was, at the entrance of one of the isolation rooms, preparing herself for whatever horrors she might see. 

What would he look like? Had he mutated at all? What if he was damaged beyond recognition? What if he was in so much pain he wished Hidgens had killed him? 

These fears and worries knotted up in her throat as she turned to John, still not exactly entering, “How is he?” 

John swallowed, “Hidgens said it wasn’t pretty...I might not agree, but I understand if it’s a lot to take in.”

She nodded and scolded herself internally. 

The chance to see Paul was right in front of her and she was wasting time on some simple apprehension? What was the matter with her?

She took a deep breath and stepped into the room. 

The walls were made of grey stone, which made it resemble a prison of sorts. The only sources of light were coming from the orange-colored monitors and the UV lights from the lab tables and stations off to the side. For a moment, with all the machinery in the room, she almost didn’t see him, until she saw Becky standing beside a lump of wires and tubes, writing things down on a chart. 

_Holy shit._

His face was so covered in different tapes, wires, and tubes, it was nearly impossible to tell that there was an actual person underneath it all. His eyes were still closed, which she assumed was an effect of the amber fluid which was being kept in a neat row of syringes on a lab station tray. He wasn’t wearing a hospital gown from the looks of it as his chest was bandaged (probably to treat the broken and bruised ribs that he sustained when he was sucked into the Black and White, to begin with. A scratchy-looking grey blanket was pulled over him, providing a clean slate to look at all the tubes and wires that were in some way connected to him. 

She could make out the electrodes of a heart monitor and a brainwave tracer (if that was actually what it was called. She could see at least three catheters sticking out of him. Some of the most noticeably being a PICC line and ART line, both of which were sewn painfully into his skin to keep from moving. She also noticed a painful-looking catheter sticking out of his neck, sealed off with a cap. Judging from the barely-noticeable orange droplets within it, she could tell that was probably the access point from where the sedative keeping him asleep was inserted. 

In the rack of test-tubes on one of the lab tables, she spotted several varying shades of liquid, ranging from a dark crimson to a vibrant cerulean. With a start, she realized it must have been his blood. 

She looked back at him and saw that he was shivering slightly. A sickly sheen of sweat covered his forehead, making him look like he was feverish, and caught in a daze of horrific sleep. As her eyes trailed down his extended arms, flinching as she looked at the bruises left from where he’d been poked and prodded, she noticed padded cuffs, keeping his arms in place. She presumed there were matching ones on his feet. 

“Why is he cuffed down?” she asked Becky, who looked extremely sympathetic. 

“To put it simply,” Becky sighed, “The professor is a dick who didn’t want to take any chances with this ‘dangerous alien’. Although, he is currently under the influence of a sedative that’s so powerful he hasn’t opened his eyes in four days.”

_Four days?_

Hidgens really thought he was too dangerous to keep him awake?

Her eyes trailed up and down his still body, draped in all kinds of machinery she didn’t even want to comprehend why it was there until her eyes fell on his face.

His eyes were squeezed shut, almost as if they were sealed off that way. Underneath his eyes were things that vaguely looked like blue bruises, which made him look more exhausted than peaceful. 

Immediately she went to him, stopping less than a foot from the side of the bed. She hesitantly reached out and ran a hand gently through what hair she could access. The sensation had always calmed him down. 

“C-Can I…” she started, her voice shaky as tears filled her eyes, “Can I get a moment alone with him?”

Becky smiled warmly, “Of course...I was just about to head to the cafeteria for a lunch break. I can keep watch and let John and Xander know if the professor comes back.”

She nodded in thanks and watched as the others left the room. 

Turning back to him, the dam that had been building inside of her for four days broke. She set her head against the mattress, letting the tears stream silently down her face. 

“H-H-hey, P-Paul,” she whispered, trying desperately to keep her voice down and steady.

There was no response, but she didn’t care. She was with him for right now. That was all that mattered. She pulled back for a silent and agonizing moment, studying the way his chest rose and fell slightly with the air from the breathing tube. 

“Shit,” she muttered, “This isn’t fair…”

Again, no response. 

“Did we do something wrong?” She asked with a dry laugh, “Did we do something to offend the universe? Because it seems like we did!”

She stood and looked down at him, “First you die and I don’t remember you, then I have to die to remember you...and now you’re back and I barely see you.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes furiously, “You didn’t deserve this...We didn’t deserve this...this isn’t right and it fucking hurts, man.”

Kneeling down again, she looked at him, tears pouring from her eyes now, “I was missing you before I even realized I had someone to miss...and...and now-” she sniffed, “And now...we’ve switched places and I don’t know I’ll do if I lose you again…”

The memory of the portal and losing him again flashed in her mind and she choked. 

“I can’t lose you again...and yet, here I am...committing espionage,” she chuckled dryly, “I hate this, Paul...I hate not having you here...I hate not being with you...I hate knowing you’re in the care of _fucking_ Hidgens…” 

She trailed off, looking at his face. Brushing a strand of his soft hair out of his face, she just looked at him. 

God, why did he look like a specimen more than a person?

Probably because that's the way Hidgens was treating him.

This wasn’t right. 

He didn’t deserve this. He deserved to go back to living a mundane life he liked, ordering black coffees and typing up weekly reports. He deserved movie nights and peace and happiness. He deserved judging his coworkers, avoiding social conventions, and annoying office assholes. 

Whether or not she factored into it was irrelevant. 

She wanted him to be alive...God, he looked like he was a corpse. Like he was a shell of the person she’d fallen in love with. 

She knew she shouldn’t have, but she gently took his cuffed hand in her own, feeling his soft skin against her palms making her feel the slightest bit of comfort. 

She knelt down again and brushed more hair from his face.

“I don’t care how long it takes, Paul,” she said solemnly, “I will make sure you get to come home. I will make sure you get to live a happy life like you fuckin’ deserve and not live in fear of all...this shit.”

Another strand of hair wove through her fingers as she went on, “I’m going to be here as often as I can and Hidgens can suck my ass for all I care...I-” she choked on the words, “I am _not_ going to lose you…”

He was still quiet and sleeping through her words. 

“I promise you,” she swore, “I’m not going to leave you behind...I can’t and I won’t...Paul…”

She swallowed hard, “I love you,Paul...no alien infection or crazy ramblings of a professor is going to change that...I love you so much...an-and we’re gonna beat this.”

She pressed a kiss to his head, not expecting any response of any kind, just feeling his presence there. Just knowing that he was there with her. Tears cascaded from her eyes as she broke off, “I swear to you...we’re gonna beat this...don’t you let 'em beat you…”

Pressing another kiss to his forehead, she sank her head into the mattress, still gently holding his hand. She would never let go if she had the choice. 

She made a solemn vow to never let go, even if they were apart.

She’d lost him once and she was never going to do it again. 

She held his hand in silence, just watching him sleep and crying as she took in his presence.

She would stay until Hidgens came back...and she’d come back tomorrow. 

She made plans to come back the next day and the day after that. 

She was not going to abandon him. 

Not now. Not ever. 

\---

_In spite of his inability to see anything other than blue, he could hear everything._

_Above the cacophony of monotonous harmonies, he could hear_ her.

_Emma._

_Her voice was the most beautiful thing he could hear from the blue oblivion._

_“I swear to you,” she was saying, her sorrowful words like music over the actual orchestra that was trying desperately to drown her out, “We’re gonna beat this...don’t you let ‘em beat you…”_

_He wanted nothing more than to tell her he could hear her._

_He could hear her wonderful, non-musical voice above the noise._

_But the harmonies wanted him to join in their conformity, poking at him and pulling him apart to join him._

_He didn’t want to join, and the pain increased because of it._

_Instead of joining, which would have significantly decreased his pain, new lyrics came to him._

_Different from the threatening songs that tried to ensnare him and drag him deeper._

_The lyrics were what he wanted Emma to know, even if she couldn’t hear him._

_They conveyed that even in his absence, he was never going to abandon her either._

_He hadn't abandoned her when he was in_ _the Black and White, and he wasn’t going to start now._

**_I_ ** **_n the light that falls at moonrise_ **

**_In the rhythm of the rain_ **

**_In the miracle of ordinary days_ **

**_In the hush of night, I will be in the whisper of lovers_ **

**_Everywhere, you will find me there_ **

_The deep blue nebula screeched and rose to a roar in his ears, making his head spin. Still, he kept the song going. Not singing...but thinking. Thinking for himself in a world where thought was a traitorous notion._

**_In the rustle of a curtain_ **

**_In the bustle of the world_ **

**_In a thousand little unexpected ways_ **

**_When you lift your gaze I will be like the shimmer of one small star_ **

**_Out there, shining everywhere_ **

_The pain rose, his limbs feeling like a thousand fire ants were biting him simultaneously, trying every possible way to get him to stop thinking for himself. Still, he pressed on, in spite of the pain of his arms and legs growing excruciating, and his head pounding inside his skull. Something like a vine twisted around his throat like a noose, trying to strangle off the stream of promises he wanted Emma to know. He had to let her know._

**_I will be there beside you through the lonely nights that fall_ **

**_So close your eyes, remember my embrace_ **

_A memory of Emma’s warm and loving embrace found his memory, providing some comfort in the pain and the pressure. As the tendrils of blue tried to drag him deeper, his thoughts followed the trail of lyrics like a wounded deer limping through the forest._

**_I will be there like mercy; I will find you through it all_ **

**_This do I swear, I will be there_ **

_The pain was stifling his thoughts. Everything burned and stung. He felt like he was being tortured over and over again as chills and feverish heat overtook his body, making him want to writhe in pain or protect himself. Still, he couldn’t move. As the vine around his neck tightened, even more, dragging him into darkness, he managed to think one last rebellious thought._

“This do I swear...I will be there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo....Hidgens, huh?  
> Paulkins is perfect. I love them more than life itself. 
> 
> Also, NIGHTMARE TIME DID THAT WITH FOREVER AND ALWAYS (if you know what I mean ;) ;))
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos if so desired to let me know how I'm doing or, if you want, just let me know how YOUR day is going.  
> I hope you all know I appreciate each and every one of you!!  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	29. Your Eyes Still Haunt Me to this Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan loves being with his family...but wonders where the new additions are.  
> Xander reflects on losing John and getting him back again.  
> Emma can't sleep, so she thinks of Paul.  
> Paul is still floating...lost in the blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Honeybee" by Steam Powered Giraffe  
> The lyrics later on (bolded text) also come from this song.

Reset No. 6

Date: August 12th, 2018

Being Unknown

Besides the fact that Paul was still MIA, Ethan couldn’t have been happier. 

He’d spent over a week so far in the infirmary, for his broken ribs and a minor concussion. The fact that they’d managed to re-materialize a living person and not a rotting corpse was a miracle. Dr. Kirk, a kind but strict woman, had told him that she’d never seen broken ribs from a past reset, and therefore the preservation...or whatever of the bone had been extraordinary. Like he knew what half of those words meant. All of this to say that he’d been discharged so he could go live with Lex and Hannah in their apartment.

Since he’d been pulled from the portal, Lex and Hannah barely left his side. He couldn’t complain, of course, it was better that they were there with him. He never wanted to let go of them again. The idea of doing such was nauseating. 

They’d not been allowed to say much about what had happened to Paul, but he knew it couldn’t have been good from the glances the sisters shared. That, and the fact that John had been awfully quiet about what had happened.

The most clues he’d gotten were from Hannah, who seemed very frightened whenever the topic of Paul was brought up. Because of this, he tried not to ask, but the curiosity surrounding his friend’s whereabouts was most infuriating to him. 

All Hannah had been able to mutter were the words, “Unfair. Cheater. Not gone.”

They made little sense to him. But judging from the look on Lex’s face right before he asked what they meant, he knew it couldn’t be good. He tried very hard not to think of his missing friend and instead focused on moving in what little he owned (which was basically the clothes he’d been wearing since he’d died, a couple of toiletries and pairs of sweatpants that Becky had gotten him from the commissary) into the apartment. It didn’t matter to him that anything he’d owned was no longer in his possession. He had Lex and Hannah, a small apartment they weren’t having to pay for, and friends who had his back, it seemed. It was better than anything Ethan had before he died. 

They’d been sitting on the couch, just the three of them. They’d not turned anything on, instead, settling for cuddling up on the couch. They were careful about his ribs, which were often under the influence of pain meds to prevent swelling or pneumonia, and avoided laying on him as they had back when they cuddled in their past lives in his shitty shoebox of an apartment. Instead, they leaned up against his arms, nestled into his shoulders. 

For once he’d felt like he was at peace. 

It had been way too long, he knew, since he’d been with them. 

In between watching all of the different resets, he’d never wanted to leave them behind. He’d wanted them to be happy, above all else. Yes, it sucked that he wouldn’t be there to share in that happiness, but he never existed to them, therefore there was no harm done. At least...not to them. 

He couldn’t believe it, he was with them right now. He was sitting on the couch with the two people he cared more than anything for in the whole world. Better yet, they knew he was there and they were cuddled into his shoulder. 

He existed to them.

He meant something to them. 

If his ribs hadn’t been filled with excruciating pain from the fractures that were just now beginning to heal, since it had been in stasis all the while they were in the Black and White, he would have held them close with the intention of never letting them go. 

He hadn’t realized how difficult it had been...watching from a distance, unable to help them, or tell them they were worth it on the worst days. Guilt from every moment he couldn’t protect them from their mom filled his sore chest. He’d spent four resets that way. An invisible, nonexistent barrier between Lex and Hannah. A useless wall that could be passed through with the flying of hands.

For the most part, Pamela had been too inebriated to inflict much damage, or even acknowledge the fact that she had daughters, to begin with...but there were times when her drunken rage would be beyond anything he had ever seen. Those were the days when Lex and Hannah would barricade the door to their closet-sized room and try and make themselves as small as possible to avoid her wrath. It had been the same with Pamela in any reset, and that infuriated him. Lex and Hannah deserved better. 

But they were safe, for now, right?

He trusted John. And since John was now reinstated as General at PEIP, he could trust that whatever was going to happen to them was okay...right?

He couldn’t afford to trust Hidgens. It was bad enough that the gut was ape-shit crazy in every other reset he’d witnessed. In one, he’d even managed to convince one of Paul’s friends to get involved in a marriage scam for inheritance...he’d not stuck around to see how that whole situation played itself out- partially because it involved the Wooly-Foot, Hatchetfield’s stupidest (but also most popular) local cryptid. All he’d known was that the old guy was a lunatic who couldn’t be trusted. 

Hannah shifted beside him and looked up. Her big brown eyes filled with a form of confusion and sadness. 

“What’s shakin’ Banana?” He whispered, looking down at her as Lex softly snored against his shoulder, making his heart melt just a little bit. 

“Paul,” she whispered, looking down at her hands, “Puppet, unfair, cheater.”

“Paul’s a cheater?” he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Not Paul,” Hannah said with a shake of her head, “Trapped...blue. puppet.”

Wait. 

No. 

_No._

She couldn’t mean that Paul had been...no...that was supposed to be impossible. The Apotheosis had been vanquished in the first reset and there was no way it was the blue singing bitch’s turn again...that couldn’t be. 

“Distraction,” Hannah whispered, “Scapegoat.”

“Hannah,” he said seriously, looking down, “Is Paul infected?” 

His heart plummeted into his feet when she met him with a grave nod that didn’t seem like she was too concerned, “Not strong enough...but still a scapegoat…”

His mind was racing. What on earth did that mean? 

No wonder he hadn’t seen or heard anything of Paul in the past few days. No wonder in the few times he’d seen Emma, she’d seemed depressed and dragged down. No wonder, it almost seemed like Paul had died...but this? This had to be far worse. 

He would ask Xander and John about it the next day. 

Why the hell hadn’t he been told? 

He figured it had something to do with the nutty professor and his mad ravings. It had to be him. Who else would have called for such secrecy? 

After spending what felt like an eternity in the Black and White with Paul and John, he figured he would be privy to the details of their existence...apparently not. 

He only prayed that Hannah was right in her assumption that Paul was just a scrape-goat...whatever that meant. 

God, they’d just been returned to their loved ones and now they were facing the potential end of the world again. 

He looked down at Hannah, prepared to ask her more questions, but found that the girl was sound asleep. 

Oh well, those questions could come tomorrow. 

If tomorrow came. 

\---

“I don’t trust him, John,” Xander said with a sigh as he and his husband prepared for bed. 

“I don’t either, Xander,” John said through a mouthful of toothpaste, spitting into the small sink in their bathroom,“But what choice do we have?” 

Xander sighed again and rubbed at his temples as he closed his book and set it on the nightstand, “Find a better biologist?”

John snorted, “Henry Hidgens is the only one who has such a deep knowledge of what this infection is...I’ve only got the information from what I saw in the Black and White...and that even tends to be distorted.”

Xander shivered at the memory of the Black and White. 

The chill that had settled over his bones while he’d been staring into the oblivion the portal portrayed had resonated within him in a way he’d never been able to completely understand, even though nine days had passed since the portal mission had taken place. The void that had seemed to stare back at him had shaken him to his core. The idea that John, Ethan, and Paul had all been living inside of it...he couldn’t imagine. 

“But still, are you sure we can’t find people who have skills in this field?” Xander asked, hating the idea of employing the man hellbent on killing Emma’s soulmate for much longer. 

John shook his head before sitting down on their bed, “He’s insane, sure, but the man is the only one who knows of the influences of the Black and White in its own scientific way. He can make sense of some of this in ways we cannot.”

“That doesn’t make him trustworthy,” Xander reasoned.

“Oh of course not,” John said with a shake of his head, “But it certainly makes him useful.”

“I suppose so…” Xander mused, “I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“He won’t...he’s smarter than that.”

“But the day we pulled you guys out of the portal…” Xander trailed off, thinking of the madness in the man’s eyes, “He looked like he’d gone unhinged...or something.”

“He’s like that in other resets too,” John said with an unsure shake of his head, “But he’s still the best bet for Paul’s survival. Emma’s too, in a sense.”

Xander looked down, “Tell me again about what the blue slime is…”

Part of him hadn’t believed that he had actually seen it when the blue stained the warehouse floor. Part of him had known it was impossible for such things to happen and he wasn’t seeing the man leak blue from his nose and eyes. But still, there he was. 

The image of the man singing through the blue slimy tears and curling in on himself like he was in the most excruciating form of pain appeared in Xander's mind again. The image was too clear for it to have been something that he made up. In addition, this was something Hidgens had hinted at seeing. Of course, it wasn’t a cause for blowing the man’s head off.

John sighed, “In the first reset Ethan and I could view, a meteor fell to Hatchetfield. The reason it caught PEIP’s attention...your attention really, was that there were no astronomical indicators or any sign that the meteor was there, to begin with.”

“Damn.” Xander said, looking over to the side, “I’m assuming it came from the Black and White?”

John nodded and went on, “We had made plans to go and visit it the next afternoon in order to ensure it didn’t pose a threat, but things got violent before we could.”

“Violent? How?” Xander asked, rubbing his temples. 

“At first it didn’t seem like much,” John mused, “Spontaneous song and dance numbers -stop laughing Xan, it’s serious.”

Xander snickered, “Sorry...go on.”

John smiled slightly before going on, “It started out as song and dance numbers, but when local law enforcement received frantic calls regarding people singing and dancing with their organs torn out and colored blue...there was cause for much concern.”

“You mean...they were musical...zombies?”

“To put it simply, yes,” John said with a nod, “They called it the Apotheosis...and the motive seemed to obtain a source of unity and conformity. I learned while in the Black and White that it was the work of a Being called Apatha.”

“Apatha?” Xander said with a raised eyebrow, “And she sought to establish conformity through...music?” 

“Yeah,” John nodded, “We were ordered to perform a cleanup mission, I went along with a few other operatives...that's where I met Paul in that reset.”

“You knew him back then too?” Xander said, his face contorting into a playful smirk, “Should I be jealous?” 

“Never in a million years, Love,” John said with a smile before his face fell, “Paul was escaping Hatchetfield High after failing to rescue his best friend’s daughter. Unfortunately, he ended up unconscious after an unpleasant encounter with the butt of my rifle. I told him who I was, I decided to go against protocol-”

“In true John McNamara fashion,” Xander interjected with a fond smile. 

“I decided to go against protocol,” John went on with a small smile, “...and spare his life. He struck me as a good man, and I told him he could use the escape chopper we had coming...but he wouldn’t leave without Emma.”

“Emma was still alive?” Damn, that woman knew how to survive. 

John nodded, “I authorized him to use my firearm and go rescue Emma,” his face fell, “Unfortunately, less than an hour after that encounter, myself and what was left of the squad was killed…”

Xander’s face fell, “So you…”

John nodded in affirmative, “It turns out, Apatha had a vendetta against Paul for some reason, I think it’s because he doesn’t like musicals and showed more resistance than others...because of that, we were made to nearly kill him and Emma...we failed at that, but one of Emma’s former coworkers had snuck aboard the chopper in a disguise.”

“What-”

“It crashed.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” John nodded, “Emma and Paul were still in Hatchetfield when it crashed. Emma, however, was severely injured-”

“How bad?” 

“Rebar through her left thigh.”

“Damn,” Xander cringed at the thought, “I’m assuming neither of them lasted long after that?”

“Actually…” John said, his eyes scrunching up in thought, “Emma did. Somehow she figured that the meteor was the source of the infection's power. She figured if someone destroyed it, all the infected people would drop dead. Paul used a grenade belt he found and left her so he could do it...”

“Paul did?” Xander said, almost in disbelief. 

“Yep,” John nodded again, “He figured he could at the very least try and give them a chance...or at the very least, give Emma a chance.”

“Did he succeed?” 

John sighed and looked down and Xander had his answer, “Oh.”

“He tried,” John said with a sad look, “By the time he stepped into the theatre, he’d been unwittingly infected with the airborne spores from the meteor...he managed to set off one of the grenades, but it was largely unsuccessful in damaging the meteor. Schaeffer, meanwhile, sent a second scout team and was able to recover Emma and later, Paul...only, he wasn’t Paul anymore.”

John let out a huff before staring at the wall, “Apatha had made Paul her...her champion in a sense...forcing him to live out his own personal hell as he brought about the end of the world...eventually making him watch as he killed Emma.”

 _Shit._ Xander couldn’t imagine anything remotely similar to that. He didn’t know much about Paul, but if the bond he shared with Emma was anything like what he shared with John, the pain of killing your own soulbond, without any control on your part...it was unbelievable. 

John trailed off, “When Emma died, the reset ended and restarted, which is why we think her death is the key to ending a reset...”

“So…” Xander started, trying to comprehend what he was hearing, “So if she’d died all those weeks ago…”

“The reset would have ended and we’d be back to square one,” John sighed, “You wouldn’t remember me, Paul, or Ethan, we’d all still be in the Black and White, and the fabric of reality would be so weak, the forces of the apocalypse could seep through at any time…”

“So, Apatha decided to make Paul her champion again?” Xander asked, the images of the blue-soaked man appearing in his mind once more. 

“It looks that way...although, I’m pretty sure it’s not as powerful as the first apotheosis,” John explained, looking deep in thought, “As I said…”

“The source of the infection’s power was in a meteor,” Xander finished, catching on quickly, “There’s no meteor or source of anything like that...so the infection’s-”

“Not strong enough to cause a large-scale apocalypse, “ John finished for him with a proud smile, “I love it when we do that.”

Xander chuckled, “I’m just glad it’s not you...I don’t know if I could handle that…”

“You would…” John said with a smile “You handled it in the Apotheosis...it wasn’t great, yes, but you carried on wonderfully…”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I still lost you,” Xander murmured quietly, “And I lost you in the reset right after that.”

“Hey,” John took his hand and squeezed gently, “I’m here now...and I don’t plan to go anywhere anytime soon.”

Xander nodded curtly, trying to keep a handle on his emotion, “I don’t know if I could go back to living like that...without you in my life.”

That was the truth. 

He’d remembered John in a way that had been almost cataclysmic in his emotions. He was so certain that he would never see the figure of his happiest memories ever again, even after remembering. But after the mission had succeeded, and John was back in his arms, he never wanted to let go again. He knew there would be more risky missions, such conduct was their way of life, but with each mission came that risk. The risk that he may never see his husband ever again. 

He had to get used to the idea though. They’d dedicated their lives to PEIP. In spite of how much their marriage meant to them both, they had to prioritize the world over their love. It was a hard truth, but it was one they’d both accepted. They’d known and there was no way to go back on that. 

“Hey,” John whispered, squeezing Xander’s hand, “I love you.”

Xander’s heart warmed significantly and a reflexive smile crossed his smile. 

This was why he stayed in spite of the overlaying strictures maintaining PEIP’s command. This is why he had agreed to marry John, in spite of the pain that would inevitably come with it. 

As long as he lived in the moment with John. He wouldn’t have to worry about the difficulties of tomorrow, or what pain could be awaiting them. 

He had moments like this with him. 

Moments he wanted to savor in their entirety. 

So, in spite of the fears that nagged away at the back of his mind, Xander would do what he had to to make the most of the time he was spending with John. 

He brushed a gentle kiss against his husband's lips and whispered,

“I love you too.”

\---

Emma had been trying to sleep for five hours now. 

Still no such luck. 

In spite of the exhaustion that was almost completely grafted into her bones, her mind was awake and screaming all the things she didn’t need to hear into her ears. Every anxiety about what had happened in the past few weeks had made themselves a home within her brain and was making her feel like she was going to be sick. 

She’d seen Paul only once in the past week. That first time John and Xander had managed to sneak her in had been the final time that Hidgens would leave the lab for his lunch break. 

Every day since then, she would sneak in and crouch down behind that same janitor cart, and if Xander poked his head out the door, she knew she wouldn’t be able to come in. Since then, she’d only been able to listen and hope that Hidgens would say things promising his recovery. No such luck. 

To be honest, Hidgens hadn’t given them much to go on other than a few vague descriptions and subtly suggest to kill Paul time and time again. There had been several occasions where she had to hold her tongue to prevent herself from jumping out and lashing out at her professor for his sudden lack of faith. She’d once thought he of all people would have understood how important it was that they cure Paul, but since Paul had first shown signs of infection her Professor had gone completely unreasonable. 

He still referred to Paul as an ‘it’ rather than a ‘he’, which infuriated her beyond imagination. In addition, he’d made it sound like they were dealing with something that was just waiting to pounce and end the human race, not one solitary man that was so far under sedation, he probably couldn’t even _think_. She didn’t know much about what the blue shit had been doing to him, but if she remembered correctly, it looked like his body was _fighting_ just a regular infection. 

She still believed he was fighting it. He had to be. 

Ever since they’d put him under isolated observation, she’d been walking around PEIP with a sense of numbness. She couldn’t say anything about Paul, or ask, for that matter. Everything was supposed to be classified. No matter how often she asked to see him, she always found roadblocks in her way. 

She’d even gotten a small position as a biological lab technician working under Xander, and yet, she still had been unable to commit espionage and find _anything_ about Paul. The only people who knew where he was were Hidgens, John, Xander, Tom, Schaeffer, one of the other nurses, Becky, Dr. Hallmark, and Dr. Abadi. She wasn’t even _supposed_ to know where he was. The only reason she did was that Xander and John had been kind enough to sneak her in all those days before. Even though she’d pleaded with Dr. Abadi to give her some information she’d been met with an ‘I’m sorry, that’s classified’. 

Needless to say, she was pissed. 

Paul was a person. He was not the government's best-kept secret. 

He had thoughts and feelings, and he was still kept in that isolation room, under sedation like he was some kind of monster. 

She didn’t know much about the infection that had overtaken him. John had briefly explained that it was an apocalyptic force from a past reset that liked to torment Paul specifically because he was one of the few who’d shown her resistance.

Well, if that was the truth, Emma was going to fistfight an apocalyptic force from the Black and White because this was fucking bullshit. 

She spent every day worrying that she would hear something along the lines of ‘Hidgens flew off the handle and killed Paul’ or ‘Paul’s being moved to a separate location’, but those harrowing messages never came. Not that it mattered. She probably would never hear it anyway due to all the ‘that’s classified’’s she received on a daily basis. 

She only hoped he wasn’t feeling as much pain as he looked to be in. 

Hidgens had supposedly made the questionable anesthetic/sedative from his own blood when he’d been touched by the energies of the Black and White. He figured it was only a miracle that the sedative had worked on Paul and managed to keep him in a near-comatose state while he did God-only-knew-what to him. The thought of Paul as a lab rat had made her feel sick.

Even though her days had been long and exhausting with her anxieties over Paul’s case roaring in her mind like a tidal wave, sweeping all other forms of thought and concentration, she’d made time for family. Tim hadn’t known about how she’d...technically...died, and he didn’t need to. All that mattered to Tim was the fact that Aunt Emma was awake and spending her meager lunch breaks losing Uno to him and Tom. 

These were some of the few occasions where she could afford to smile. With the memories of their past life washing over them, Tom and Tim had bounced somewhat back to what they’d been before Paul had died and the world supposedly restarted. They hung out as much as they could afford to. She managed to enjoy these moments as much as she could. Tim didn’t know that his mother dying was a constant in the universe...but he did know that he had an Uncle Paul somewhere.

_“Aunt Emma?” Tim asked, his voice innocent as he expertly shuffled the deck of cards (far better than anything Emma could do herself)_

_“Yeah, bud?” she asked, looking up from her small sandwich she’d been nibbling off of._

_“Mr. Lee’s husband is back...Hannah’s big sister’s boyfriend is back,” He looked up at her with big eyes, filled with questioning, “Why isn’t Uncle Paul back?”_

_Her stomach had plummeted a thousand feet._

_Tom looked at her apologetically and turned to Tim, “When we got Uncle Paul back, he wasn’t-uh...feeling so good…so he’s in the infirmary.”_

_“Oh,” Tim looked down, before looking back up with bright eyes, “Maybe we can visit him later!”_

_Her heart sank._

_“No...buddy,” Tom said carefully, “Aunt Emma can’t even go in and see him.”_

_Tims's eyes widened and a scared expression crossed his face, “Is he going to be okay?”_

_She and Tom met one another's glances. She couldn’t offer him a vague ‘I don’t know’. She didn’t know, of course, but that answer would remain as a loose thread. Unsatisfactory. Taunting. She knew because every single ‘I don’t know’ that she gave to others had left her feeling infuriated at herself._

_“I hope so, bud,” was all she could whisper, “I hope so.”_

That had been two days before. The more time she spent dwelling on her vague knowledge of where Paul was, had given her every inclination to break him out of there and escape with him herself. But he wasn’t well...that much was clear. They wouldn’t get very far.

She tried to dwell on happy memories. The memories that had been missing from her mind until a few weeks before, but with each remembrance came a bittersweet taste that made her feel ill. 

She just wanted him back. 

She shifted over again, this time curling in on herself and holding her knees to her chest.

Nope.

She only did that when she was sad. And when she was sad, Paul used to envelop himself around her, holding her close in spite of her being contorted in a ball, wordlessly telling her that everything was going to be okay. 

She turned over on her stomach. 

Nope. 

She did that when she didn’t want to get up. And when she didn’t want to get up, Paul used to run his fingers gently up and down her spine until it tickled and she was forced awake. 

She turned over on her side, legs only slightly bent, one hand underneath her head. 

Nope. 

She did that when she wanted to cuddle with another person...which had only been Paul in her life. Paul or possibly Jane when they’d been acting like sisters. 

God! Why was it so hard to get comfortable? 

Insomnia continued to eat away at her mind. 

She tried to think of the lab work she would work on tomorrow. 

Nope, the thoughts went to Paul. 

She tried to think of Tom or Tim. 

Nope, the thoughts went to the conversation two days ago and therefore went to Paul. 

She tried to think of ways she could make Hidgens’ life miserable. 

Nope, the thoughts went to Paul in isolation. 

The thoughts were always of Paul. 

The worry, the pain, the anger, the sadness, the grief...it all led back to Paul.

She knew why, of course, he was her literal soulmate. In one way or another, every part of her life led back to him in some way. This life and her past lives.

His soul completed hers. 

Her soul completed his.

It was that simple.

Had someone told her when she was younger that she was going to meet her literal soulmate at some point, she would have scoffed and called them a fucking moron. But now...now she felt like she had truly found the missing piece of the puzzle.

And that missing piece was currently a lab rat under extreme sedation and in the care of her insane biology professor who’d been touched by the Black and White.

Fuckin’ great.

She groaned and sat up, checking the time on the digital clock beside her bed.

_1:20 in the morning, damn._

She fell back against the pillows with a soft groan. She’d gone to bed with the intention of sleeping (for once). 

Why the fuck wouldn’t her mind comply? 

The answer was one she knew but wouldn’t acknowledge. 

The truth was that she missed him. 

She wanted him to be there. With her. 

She’d wanted him to share this small PEIP apartment with her.

She’d wanted to rememorize everything about him.

She’d wanted them to have a happy reunion in which everything could feel okay again. 

Okay was always enough for her. 

Now, things were less than okay and everything felt like it was out of her control. 

That all-too-familiar feeling of failure, like a train on a collision course, made itself known inside her chest. She felt like she was spinning and falling. Falling into oblivion she couldn’t quite comprehend. 

Her thoughts were falling, plummeting, shooting downward into a spiral of-

His blue eyes appeared in her mind...suddenly stopping her descent. 

His eyes had been one of the first things she’d noticed about him. Their clarity. The way they seemed too big for his round face. The way they searched her respectfully, and maintained a sense of intrigue. 

Later on, long after they’d started dating, those eyes had been a source of comfort that extended beyond her own understanding. 

The more she thought about them, the more she calmed down. 

The way she could see almost exactly what he was thinking through watching his eyes. The way they’d always searched her carefully when she was upset. The way they crinkled up when he dissolved into a fit of giggles when she would make a bad joke...

And suddenly...she was fast asleep. 

\---

_The pain was growing stronger with every passing moment...second? Hour? Day? Month? Year?_

_He didn’t know._

_Everything hurt._

_Emma’s voice hadn’t returned, providing some calm in the swirling storm of blue which made his brain burn. Instead, he’d heard other familiar voices shouting and talking about something. He presumed it was him. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The pain was so bad._

_The blue storm had turned to a dark blue, wrapping him in a nearly-black blanket that suffocated him. His thoughts were floating just beneath the surface of what he could comprehend, making every second feel like he was trying to tug an extremely tiny splinter free from his skin, but his fingers were too big and pinching him every moment he missed it._

_He tried to think of her. Always her._

_Even though her wonderful, sane, perfect voice never returned, he tried so hard to remember it. The cacophony that had melded itself into a melody had tried to make him comply. Had tried to coerce him into giving in._

_Somehow, miraculously, he hadn’t._

_Part of him was begging to give up. Trying to find any way to make the pain end...but he couldn’t._

_Some very distant part of him was familiar with this pain. Part of his memory remembered the screaming and overwhelming nature of it all. As it had crashed over him in wave after excruciating wave._

_This was different._

_This time he felt like he could fight...like he could fight and actually win._

_He reached out with his mind, searching for rebellious lyrics to sing._

_The voices and screaming drowned them out…_

_Then he thought of Emma._

_Her warm tanned skin and deep brown eyes that seemed to entrance him every time she looked at him. The way she would bite her lip every time she told a bad joke or would make fun of him. The beautiful lilt of her voice when she was complaining about a shitty customer, or calling him a ‘nerd’. The messy waves of her hair that needed several pins and bands to be kept up in place. How her laughter sounded more beautiful than any petty excuse for a song._

_Her face appeared in his mind as clearly as if she was there with him now._

_The rebellious lyrics were there, making the pain grow greater and the lyrical screaming growing louder and louder, trying to drown them again._

_Emma’s face overpowered it all._

**_You didn't have to smile at me_ **

**_Your grin's the sweetest that I've ever seen_ **

**_But you did_ **

**_Yes you did_ **

_He smiled big and bright as the blue only grew more outraged. In spite of the agony that flared up in his arms, legs, and chest, he kept thinking. Using the blue’s major weapon against itself. He wouldn’t give it the satisfaction of beating him._

**_You didn't have to offer your hand_ **

**_Cause since I've kissed it I am at your command_ **

**_But you did_ **

_The thoughts wavered as the pain grew, making his breath stop for a moment. As soon as he was able, he kept going._

**_Oh, Turpentine erase me whole_ **

**_I don't want to live my life alone_ **

**_I was waiting for you all my life_ **

~~**_But then I let myself go_ ** ~~

**No.**

He wasn’t letting go.

_The Blue was trying to hijack his thoughts and turn them against him.  
He tossed those thoughts away, concentrating on Emma alone. He wasn’t going to give in. _

_But what if he did?_

**_Hello ~~Goodbye~~ , ~~Twas nice to know you~~_ **

**_How I find myself without you_ **

**_That I'll never know_ **

_He wasn’t saying goodbye._

_He was going to go back._

_The Blue wouldn’t win._

_He’d felt like he’d truly known himself when he met her. She brought out some of the most concealed aspects of his soul he didn’t even realize he had._

_Emma’s face remained in his mind all through that night...or what he assumed was night. For all he could care, it could remain forever and he wouldn’t have complained. As he thought of her and the strength she gave him. How safe he felt around her. How happy he was with her...he was reminded of how wonderful it would be when he got back to her._

_And for a while...the pain seemed to disappear._

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda a filler, but I figured we could use a fluff/angst chapter for feelings and fun.  
> I promise it'll pick up some speed tomorrow (or whenever I get around to posting the next chapter).
> 
> (Also, I high key listened to the song featured in this chapter on repeat while writing this)
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you would like to! I'd love to know what you think and how you guys are doing!!  
> I hope you guys have had a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious day!!!  
> THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoiding Sleep


	30. Wait for Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky is a fantastic nurse that gets shit done.  
> The gang comes to a horrible realization.   
> Paul fights back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title and later lyrics come from the song "Wait for Me" by Anais Mitchell from the musical Hadestown.
> 
> Sorry, this chapter took a while!!! A lot happens here, so hopefully, it doesn't go too fast!!

Reset No. 6

Date: August 14th, 2018

Being Unknown

Becky was growing tired of the professor and his antics. 

Paul had been in their care for over a week and she could tell that something wasn’t right. 

Besides the fact that the professor was overdramatic in every sense of the word and was very keen on ‘putting the invader down’, she knew something was up with what the professor was doing.

She often tried very hard to see the good in every person, but the professor was making that very difficult. He’d done nothing but bemoan the fact that PEIP was so ready to keep Paul alive and had referred to the man as if he was some specimen. Of course, she couldn’t argue that the blue slime they’d gathered samples of from Paul’s mouth before they’d placed the breathing tube wasn’t something she’d never seen before. The professor had stared at the samples with ultimate disgust but also acknowledged that they were simply remarkable.

Then there was the matter that the old man seemed to know more about her than any other person in the room. 

_Rebecca Barnes-Peterson._

She’d hoped she’d never have to hear that full name again. Every time the second last name had been added to her full name, she never knew what to make of it. All it left was a bitter taste in her mouth and an emptiness that shook her to her core. She knew the old man could see things others couldn’t...but if he really knew what she was…

She shook those thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. That was much more important anyway. For now and for always, she was Becky Barnes. And she had a job to do. 

That being said, she didn’t know what to expect, but she knew that something was off about Paul.

He was presenting every single indication that he was fighting the infection...but every time they took more and more blood, which normally occurred shortly after they would readminister the professor’s sedative, the samples had turned into much more vibrant shades of blue. Of course, the samples were alien, but between the sweat and swollen glands in the man's neck, it was evident that he was fighting it off as though it were an actual normal infection. 

To her, that didn’t seem right. 

So, being the intelligent woman that she was, she figured it couldn’t hurt to perform a little experiment of her own. 

She didn’t know the potential ramifications of what she was planning, but if she was right, it could bring them closer to saving Paul’s life. Worst case scenario, Hidgens would complain and as a result, get her taken off of the isolation team associated with Paul’s case and her experiment didn’t work. Best case scenario, she was right and it brought them closer and closer to saving Paul’s life and figuring out where exactly the professor stood.

She knew the risks, and she was more than willing to take them. 

Hidgens had created the sedative from his own blood years before and had stored it in weird, old-fashioned, glass medicine bottles (that resembled IV drips from the fifties and sixties). When they weren’t in syringes lined up on the medical tray, they were in the glass bottles waiting for extraction. They’d administered it twice to Paul, like clockwork, and therefore prevented the man from waking up while they did what they could to study him and provide a cure. Lest Hidgens be authorized to kill him first. 

She’d do what she needed to before the first injection was administered. The area around Paul’s neck catheter was looking extremely swollen anyways, and they’d need to replace it somewhere else. She didn’t know what she expected to see once she was done, but hopefully, it only provided benefit. 

She relieved Nurse Chapel of her duties and went into the isolation observation room as normal. She didn’t see Hidgens there yet, and instead found an orange post-it note addressed to her on the lab table. She ignored it for the time being and checked up on Paul’s vitals. 

His fever had not yet turned, and his heart rate remained eerily slow. With the addition of the sedative, his brain activity had remained relatively stagnant, with only a few spikes in the middle of the night. She cast a glance over the man, who remained as still as he was when they’d first brought him in. 

She’d managed to remember some happy times in which Emma and Paul had come over to the Houston residence to see Tom and Tim when they’d been happy-

She swallowed those thoughts down. In the past lifetime, Becky and Tom had gotten back together and been something of a family. Of course, those memories had belonged to a time where Jane had been dead a while, and Tom, Tim, and Emma had been able to process it more. Her heart ached every time she remembered those past memories. Tom and she hadn’t talked about them, or what it was that they implied for their relationship, but they did try and keep things cordial and less awkward when they both worked amongst one another. 

After checking up on the updates made to Paul’s chart, she turned to the note that had been left for her. 

_Nurse Barnes,_

_I need to run out to retrieve the latest scans from Dr. Abadi, which might take a little longer than I anticipated originally since they’re using a new update to Rodney’s software. Please administer the appropriate dose of sedative to the specimen and record it accordingly. I should be back by 8:35._

_Regards,_

_Professor Henry Hidgens_

She rolled her eyes, with the way that it was worded, one would assume he took her for anything less than a qualified nurse. If she already hadn’t developed a loyalty to Paul and Emma on the basis of past memory, she wouldn’t have volunteered for the position. Yet, there she was, trying to help as much as she could. 

She checked the clock on the wall. It was eight-thirty, which was the normal time they administered the first dosage. The hallways were silent, so, therefore, she could hear the sound of Hidgens humming something obnoxious as he came down the hallway, his footsteps sounding kind of like tap shoes as he moved fast. 

She’d have to move quickly if she was going to succeed. She pulled two clean syringes free from the containers and pretended to hold one up to the entrance of the fluid in the amber bottle.  
Just as Hidgens came through the doorway, she purposefully stumbled over her shoelaces and knocked the two massive glass bottles from the table, sending the amber fluid crashing down onto the floor. 

She managed to catch herself on the lab table before she fell into the puddle of amber fluid and broken glass, smiling to herself as she took in the destroyed sedative. He stammered on his words, storing the newly retrieved scans in a folder...although she took note of the sickening shades of dark blue and dark purple that stained the areas of black and white that captured Paul’s brain. 

She could hear Hidgens shouting something and immediately reverted back to her apologetic state. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so clumsy-” she started to say before Hidgens’ face contorted in an unreadable form of anger.

“ _Nurse Barnes,”_ he hissed, “ _Have you any understanding of what you’ve done?!?!”_

She did her best to look ignorant and like she was shaken as the man went on in his yelling. She tried not to think of Stanley when he was drunk. 

“ _That serum takes a month to synthesize!!!”_ The professor screeched, “ _Without it, you have doomed us all!!”_

“I-I’m sorry…” she said, trying to keep her voice quiet, trying to make herself look as meek as possible.

“ _You’re sorry!?!?”_ The professor continued to scream, “Well, _Nurse Barnes_ , when the world ends and we have no way of keeping the-”

The rest of his angry words faded into nothingness. She didn’t care how many insults he threw at her. She’d completed her mission. Soon she’d see where his real allegiance lay. 

Either that or she doomed them all. 

“What’s going on here?” A deep voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked over to see Tom, standing in the doorway, a confused expression deep in his face. 

He looked from the broken glass and the spilled liquid to Becky. 

“Beck,” he said, wary of the Professor’s fury, “What’s going on?” 

“She only just doomed-” the Professor started before being cut off. 

“I didn’t ask you, Professor,” Tom said, his voice stern, “I asked Becky.”

The professor scoffed and turned towards Paul, “I’m assuming that he didn’t get the dose?” 

She shook her head, still trying to look as small as possible. To get him to dare to underestimate her. 

Tom looked from her again to Hidgens, “What the fuck happened here?” 

Hidgens raised a finger, “This woman, destroyed the only source of sedative that we had left.”

“Can’t you make more?” Tom said, looking unconcerned. 

Hidgens sighed dramatically, “It would take me months to replicate it without any uncontaminated original source material.” 

He glared at Becky, “So...if this monster wakes up and kills us all...It’ll be your fault.”

“Excuse me, _Doctor_ ,” Tom barked in a tone that made Becky flinch, “As far as I know, you don’t hold a position here at PEIP. You are merely a consultant, correct?” 

Hidgens didn’t answer and Tom went on. 

“If I remember correctly, Nurse Barnes here is an agent of PEIP,” Tom spoke calmly and officially, filling Becky with a warmth she didn’t quite recognize, “You are not...therefore, you should show some more respect.”

Hidgens sighed again and looked at her, no remorse in his eyes, “Well then, Nurse Barnes,” he said, the bitterness in his tone unwavering, “We should get this cleaned up...we have a lot of lab work to get done today…”

Becky nodded and went out to grab a broom from the janitorial cart that Emma would be hiding behind later today. She retrieved a mop and broom from the cart before colliding with Tom. 

“Oh...s-sorry,” he said, his voice wavering, “You okay?” 

She nodded, “Thank you...for standing up for me...you didn’t-”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

She thought for a moment. Was there actually something she could do that would impact the way this would turn out? She’d never actually told anyone about her plan, so that would be a good place to start. 

“Could you get a message to General McNamara and Lee?” She said, “We need to meet. Lee, McNamara, Abadi, Emma, you and me.”

“Wh-” Tom started before being cut off my Hidgens, once more. 

“Nurse Barnes,” He called, his tone annoyed, “We don’t have all day…”

She rolled her eyes again before turning back to Tom, “Please...just do this for me...I think it might help us save Paul and ourselves.”

“Nurse Barnes!” Hidgens called again. 

“Coming!” she called back, before turning to Tom, “Please, I know this could help us.”

After a moment he looked at her again, his eyes filled with a kind of confusion he once wore when she tried to explain calculus to him. She pushed the thoughts of those happier times away as he offered her a small nod. 

“John and Xander are on a mission, scouting for any sources of whatever Paul’s going through…” Tom whispered, “So ‘as soon as possible’ might end up being tomorrow.”

She nodded in understanding, “As long as it happens.”

With that, Tom nodded and walked off, leaving Becky with a mop and a whole bunch of high-school-era feelings that had started to burst back up again. 

Swallowing her feelings, she went to spend the remainder of her day with the overdramatic professor and hopes that she truly hadn’t doomed them all. 

\---

Reset No. 6

Date: August 15th, 2018

Being Unknown

“Alright,” John sighed, pressing fingers to his temples, “Tell me what happened, please?”

He, Xander, Becky, Dr. Abadi, Tom, and Emma were all in his and Xander’s apartment discussing the drama that had sent the Professor into near-hysterics and Becky into a spiral of suspicion. Becky didn’t seem afraid of the consequences, but once Tom had alerted him that they needed to have a meeting, just the five of them in the apartment, he knew it had to take precedence. 

Becky inhaled, “I noticed that something wasn’t right with that stuff Hidgens was giving Paul. Every time we would administer, and then take a blood sample, the blood would get a darker and darker shade of blue...and he kept insisting we take blood immediately after the administration of the sedative…”

“And this was weird...how?” Xander asked, his eyes filled with something unreadable. 

“We didn’t start administering the sedative consistently until his second day with us, “ Becky explained, “Back then, his blood had started out as a very light shade of violet...and before we started administering it was getting back to a normal shade of red...but when Hidgens insisted that we keep him sedated…”

“It started going back to blue,” John finished for her, he studied the woman as she nodded, she was a tough woman. Xander’s eyes widened as he understood. 

“So...rather than requesting that you take Paul off of the sedative,” he said, his eyes filled with some kind of admiration, “You eliminated it altogether.”

Becky nodded, looking down, “I don’t know what Hidgens’ play is, but I could tell that sedative was not a means of protection.”  
“Are you suggesting that Hidgens is trying to _ensure_ that Paul gets infected completely?” Xander asked, looking like he truly wanted to believe it. 

“I don’t know what I am suggesting,” Becky said calmly, “But since yesterday, Paul’s blood samples have started to revert back to purple, visually. I don’t know if that means a good thing or a bad thing, but I think that eliminating the sedative altogether will help him recover.”

John was impressed. He knew there was a reason Becky had been chosen for PEIP. The woman had a strong heart and a sound mind. In some ways, beneath all of her sweetness and kindness, there was grit to her that nobody would expect. 

“So…” Tom finally spoke up, having been standing in the corner for the entirety of the conversation without saying a word, “You destroyed the sedative because you think it’s what’s keeping Paul from being...well, Paul?” 

She nodded and John considered this. 

If there was no source for the Apotheosis to gain its power. No meteor. Not even a strange rock. He’d spent the day before running scan after scan using Rodney’s software and found nothing that would be indicative of the Apotheosis’ power in Hatchetfield. Because of this, the infection wouldn’t survive within Paul, and yet it had.

“Xander?” he asked, turning to his husband, “When Callie measured levels of residual Black and White energy exiting the portal...back when Lex and Hannah got us all out...what were the levels?” 

“They were well within the dark purple range,” Xander said, his hand stroking the stubble John suddenly realized was extremely attractive. 

He turned to Dr. Abadi, “What were the colors of the scans you gave Hidgens?” 

She nodded, “They were a light green and a light blue, indicating moderate anomalies within Mr. Matthews’ left temporal planum, the left, and right premotor cortex, and temporal-parietal region.” she paused, “I believe those areas are associated with the process of singing and musical comprehension, so that makes sense.” 

“That’s not what I saw,” Becky chimed in, her eyebrows drawing together “I believe they were an indigo color, although he stored them pretty quickly after he saw what I’d done.”

Xander's eyes widened, “That doesn’t add up. His blood is doing one thing, his scans another, the residual energy is way too high, and Hidgens…” he trailed off, his eyes meeting Johns. They sat there in silence. They knew that something was amiss, something wasn’t right. There was, at the very least, one variable they were missing. 

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. 

“I’ll get it,” John said with a small sigh before standing and going to the door, his mind racing with possibilities. 

He pulled open the door and was met with a familiar, young face, “Ethan?” 

The boy smiled, “Hannah n’ Lex is here too,” he ran a hand through his hair before gesturing to the two girls at his side, their expressions tired but happy, “I hope it’s not a bad time Johnny, but Hannah wanted to see you...and I have some questions- I just...”

“No, Ethan now is perfect,” he cut him off with a warm smile, “It’s actually great that you guys are here. Please come in.” 

He hadn’t lied. Hannah and Lex could provide insight as to what was going on, and Ethan...he felt slightly guilty. Since he’d stepped back in the position of General, he’d not had a great deal of time to check up on how the boy was adjusting to being alive again. Besides two visits in the infirmary, he’d not seen the boy at all, in spite of his own self-assurance that he would. 

He gestured for the three kids to follow him in, “Sorry, I’ve not been around to check up on the three of you,” he offered as he showed them to the living room, “Things have been-”

“No, it’s fine, Johnny,” Ethan said, cutting him off, “I get- what’re…”

He trailed off as they came to the living room to see all the company they had, “What’s going on?” 

“Please, sit down,” Xander said, gesturing to a few available seats scattered across the room, “I think you can help us more than you know…”

Lex looked slightly off-put, “What does that mean? Are you guys like a…” she paused, searching for the word as she sat down next to Emma, who smiled at her and Hannah tiredly. She looked miserable as Lex went on, “Are you guys in a cult or something?” 

Tom chuckled, “Being in a cult would be preferable compared to what we’re doing here right now, Lex.”

“Which is?” the girl prompted. 

“Figuring it out.” Hannah spoke, studying Emma’s face, “Paul.”

Emma’s eyes softened slightly, “Wh-what do you mean?” 

Hannah looked over at Ethan, whose eyes were scrunched up in confusion, “Ask.”

John turned to the boy, “If you have questions, son, fire away...they might help us with our problem.”

Ethan drew his hand through his hair and sighed. After a while, he looked up at John, concern in his eyes, “What...what happened to Paul?”

He went on, the words rattling off quickly, “I mean...he was there in the Black and White, and Hannah said they got him...but I’ve not seen him since I left the Black and White, and nobody’s mentioned anything about him and I keep feeling like somethings gonna go wrong...and even worse-” he paused to inhale slightly. 

“It’s okay,” John assured him, “Take your time.”

Ethan sighed again, his eyes filled with fear that made John’s heart drop, “Hannah...Hannah said that-” he choked on the words, “She...she um said that Paul was infected...Johnny? Is that true?” 

Guilt filled the pit of John’s stomach. Over the course of being trapped in the Black and White, Ethan had bonded with both him and Paul in ways that few people could. The fact that information regarding Paul’s whereabouts couldn’t get to him was inexcusable. John was a general, for God’s sake, if information reached Ethan, then it wasn’t classified. In some ways, it was the same thing for Emma. 

John didn’t know how to respond, so Ethan’s eyes widened, “It’s true...isn’t it?” he turned to Tom, “Mr. Houston, is it true?”

Tom’s eyes darted from John to Xander to Emma, unsure of how to respond. 

In the end, it was Emma who spoke up. 

“It’s true,” she murmured, speaking up for the first time since she’d entered that room. 

Ethan’s eyes widened and he looked back at John, making his heart clench, “How? Apatha shouldn’t have that power-”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, Ethan,” John said with a small sad smile, “Becky here took matters into her own hands and may very well be the very key to figuring out how to save him.”

The redhead’s face flushed and she looked down, “If I’m right, he could beat it in a few days...it looks like he’s actually fighting it off.”

“Does the professor know that?” Tom asked, his eyes the most confused out of everyone. 

“If he does, he hasn’t shown it,” Becky said gravely, “He has to though...of course, he’s the one who’d been analyzing the slides of Paul’s blood...but what I’ve seen afterward…”

“So…” Lex said her eyes calculating, “So, if...whatever you did is saving this Paul guy...Hidgens would have to notice...and show us if he’s actually on our side?” 

“In a way,” Becky said with a nod, “If he notices the differences and acknowledges at the very least that his blood is getting noticeably more normal...then maybe we’ll be able to understand more about his motives.”

“Motive?” Emma said with a scoff, “He wants Paul dead.”

“Yes, but why?” Becky said, “I think it goes way beyond that blue shit in his system...especially if he’s getting better.” 

“And those energy inconsistencies…” Xander mused before his eyes widened, “And with the scans...Kam, do you think he could tamper with the results?” 

Kamaria tilted her head as she thought about it, “I mean...he was with me the whole time...so I can’t imagine how the scans I gave him and the scans Becky saw could have been altered...unless Becky saw wrong?” 

Becky shook her head, “No. They were dark blue and purple,” she seemed to think for a moment, “...but with the blood getting less and less blue that doesn’t make sense...but the energy-”

“Not from Paul,” Hannah muttered, “Not him.”

They all turned to look at the little girl who was staring at Emma, her brown eyes wide. 

“What...what do you mean, Banana?” Lex asked.

“Scapegoat,” she whispered, “Something else.”

John thought about this. 

First and foremost, there was the matter of the energy readings in the portal. When Paul had been pulled through the vortex, the energy readings had been off the charts, but according to Becky and Dr. Abadi, his blood had been almost-normal. Minus a few specklings of blue within the blood, and the tears of blue slime he’d been crying, Paul could have been considered just a singing, miserable human being. Hidgens had given Paul a sedative and his blood grew darker and darker shades of blue over time. 

Then there was the inconsistency in the scans. Dr. Abadi saw the scans with only a few minor anomalies, while Becky saw them containing multiple powerful anomalies. The only person who’d run the go-between had been Hidgens. 

So, if Hidgens was right then Paul was on a one-way track towards being a singing alien zombie...but if Becky and Dr. Abadi were correct, then Paul was getting better. 

The question was if Paul _was_ getting better...then where had all the energy from the final portal operation come from? 

Hannah murmured something under her breath and looked down. 

“What was that, Hannah?” Ethan asked, his ice-blue eyes looking excruciatingly tired. 

Hannah inhaled and exhaled sharply, her voice filled with some “Something else. Fourth passenger.”

_What?_

Ice ran into John's veins, overtaking him with something he couldn’t entirely recognize. He met Xander’s eyes, the both of them filled with a shock they couldn’t quite understand.

What did this mean? 

Fear pooled in his stomach as a harrowing thought crossed his mind. 

“You mean…” Ethan started, his words echoing the fear in John’s mind, “Something else got out?”

John struggled to maintain his calm composure as the girl nodded. 

_No. No. No._

He and Ethan shared a horrified glance. 

The Black and White was home to many horrors, but if Apatha had unsuccessfully infected Paul, it meant she couldn’t be there. It also meant that Paul’s infection was the perfect…

“Distraction.” Hannah muttered, looking at Becky, “Scapegoat.” 

Emma’s eyes widened, “So Paul wasn’t…”

“He wasn’t the source of the energy…” Xander said, his disbelief evident in his face, “...and whatever got out of the Black and White is using Apatha’s infection of him as a scapegoat to cover their arrival up.”

Everyone seemed to sit there in the horror of the moment for a second.   
Anxious thoughts roared in John’s mind as they begged for him to feel fear. Instead of fear, he felt...uneasy. 

“Do you…” Emma started, her eyes not leaving the floor, “Do you think Hidgens is acting all crazy because of this...thing?”

John considered it, “As opposed to the way that he acts in any reset we’ve seen?” 

Ethan raised an eyebrow, “Well, his accident with the Black and White occurred before...Before…” He glanced between Tom and Emma, who seemed to get the message. The unspoken words that detailed the death of Jane Perkins, “Well...then that accident had to be a constant…”

“You mean he’s like this in every other reset you’ve seen?” Tom asked. 

“He chased a duchess naked through the forest to get her to endorse his musical…” John said, unamused, “So...yes.”

Emma’s eyes widened at the revelation and for a brief moment looked like she was about to inquire further. Instead, she shook her head, “So...what do we do? Regardless of whether or not anything came through…”

“It did,” Ethan muttered, his hands covering his face as Lex stroked his shoulder gently with an unreadable expression. John couldn’t tell if the look was one of grief or anger...or even confusion. Regardless of whether or not he could read her expression, he felt sorry for the teens. 

Emma sighed and continued, “Well, besides that fact, Hidgens currently has the authorization to experiment on my…” she trailed off and stared at the ground, “He...can just do what he wants with Paul.”

She swallowed hard before continuing, “What do we do?” 

John thought hard for a moment.

If they were to eliminate Hidgens’ authority over Paul’s case, the man would quickly grow suspicious and would be drawn to do something drastic. If they were to arrest Hidgens, nothing would get accomplished in the process of understanding what was to come. If something had truly come through the portal from the Black and White and into this reality, then in some way, Henry Hidgens was the only person who could help. 

So, as damning as his next words would be, John McNamara gave orders, he never thought or ever wanted to give. 

“We do nothing...for now.”

\---

Reset No. 6

Date: August 16th, 2018

Being Unknown

_“We do nothing...for now.”_

Tom had never thought he’d hear those words come out of General John McNamara’s mouth. He was pretty certain that nobody would have expected it. In spite of the varying looks of horror everyone seemed to wear, nobody said a word. 

He at the very least expected Emma to say something. In spite of her shock, pain, and exhaustion, she said nothing. She didn’t have to for everyone to know what she was thinking. 

Before leaving the McNamara-Lee residence, he’d pulled his sister-in-law aside and looked at her with concern. She’d looked like she’d not been getting much sleep since Paul had gone into isolation. He’d attempted to smuggle her in to see him, but Hidgens, being the stubborn bastard that he was, had refused to leave the room unless completely necessary, and only Hidgens and Dr. Abadi’s assigned nurses were allowed in the room after hours. Then, of course, the matter of Dr. Abadi being a rule follower wouldn’t allow any other nurses to let her in after-hours.

Instead of offering any comfort, he’d offered Emma a small, haphazard, “Get some sleep” before leaving, preparing for his shift the next day as Hidgens-sitter. 

Of course, that had been the night before.

Now he was with Hidgens and Becky in the room, supervising the old man as he worked around them, testing a now light violet-shade. 

Once the blood had been drawn, Becky and he had shared a look. He felt his heart rate grow as he turned to look at the old man. The old man’s eyes widened as he carried the vial and began to transfer a drop of the blood to a microscope slide. As he did this, he looked back and Becky, who seemed to be buzzing with anticipation. 

The professor studied the slide through the microscope, the only audible sound marking the room was the soft beeping of the machinery that covered Paul. 

Before the supposed resets, the memories he’d had of Paul had been...awkward at best. He presumed they were supposed to be that way. He hadn’t been that close to Emma and therefore by default, he hadn’t been any closer to Paul when he’d met him. At first, he was fairly certain that the man was going to explode from nervous energy alone. Still...Tim liked him and was able to connect with him on a matter of things that Tom couldn’t. For one thing, Paul liked computers...Tim liked computers. They’d talk about that and comic books. In some ways, Paul was good with Tim in ways that Tom couldn’t be. 

He remembered the way that Paul’s face had lit up the first time Tim had called him ‘Uncle Paul’. It was a look Tom thought would split the man’s skull in two with how wide he smiled. Emma had smiled big too, looking between Tim and Paul like the two made her world go round. In some ways, Tom and Tim were the only family Emma had left, and somehow she’d brought Paul into that makeshift family...and he came willingly. Tom hadn’t been sure that their mismatched family built on a shit-tonne of anger and grief was something no one would willingly enter. Yet Paul had. 

In spite of his inability to connect with Paul in many ways on a personal level, Tom still considered Paul a member of Emma’s family. And any member of Emma’s family was a member of Jane’s family. And any member of Jane’s family was a member of his family. 

It was because of this that he would do what he could to ensure he didn’t lose another member of their family. He wouldn’t. Never again. 

Then again, there was the matter of the memories of Becky. 

Once all the remembering had started, memories of him and Becky having a life together...after Jane and after...the bastard she’d married, had come flooding back to him, leaving him dazed and confused. He knew that he was still in love with Becky. In some ways, he’d never stopped loving her, even after he married Jane. But the memories of their lives together, after Jane, had come from a life where the grief was in processing and Jane was being given the respect she deserved, posthumously. In this lifetime, Jane’s death was still a very raw wound, and no matter how much he wanted to be with Becky...he knew it wasn’t fair to Emma, it wasn’t fair to Becky, it wasn’t fair to Tim, and it wasn’t fair to Jane. 

So, as much as it hurt, he had to avoid his feelings for Becky for the time being. Besides, he didn’t even know if she remembered their futures-from-the-past 

A small gasp from Hidgens broke Tom out of his thoughts and he turned to the silver-haired professor, trying very hard not to think of John’s comment involving nudity and an English duchess. Wherever that woman was now, he hoped she was far away from him. 

“Nurse Barnes,” The man started, his voice low, making Becky straighten, “I owe you an apology.”

Becky feigned innocence, “What on earth for, Professor?” 

The old man stepped back from his microscope, a dumbfounded look on his face. Tom couldn’t tell if it was genuine shock or...something else.

“It appears…” the old man started, his eyes falling on the sleeping form of whom Tom hoped to one day call his brother-in-law, despite how awkward he was, “That he is indeed...recovering.”

Becky looked at Tom, her green eyes wide. She gasped, trying to act surprised, “Really?” 

Hidgens nodded, his eyes still wide and his expression unreadable, “His blood...the sedative must have been _encouraging_ the infection somehow…”

“How could it do that?” Becky asked, making Tom chuckle inwardly at how well she managed to play meek and dumb. 

The Professor brought a hand to his chin and began to stroke it as if deep in thought.

_God, what a showman._

“Well…” The professor began after pausing for what was apparently an effect of some kind, “Since the serum was synthesized from my blood... _good God!”_

The man snapped through his gasp as if emphasizing his sudden epiphany. Tom had to stifle his eye roll. The type of eye-roll his Aunt Cynthia claimed was genetic. 

“What, Professor?” Becky asked, still maintaining her wide-eyed waif facade.

“How could I have been such a fool!” the man exclaimed, his eyes wide, “My blood...I’ve been exposed to the energies of the Black and White! No wonder the infection was growing worse and worse!” 

He turned to Becky, and Tom could see a strange abrupt change to...something reminiscent of genuine remorse in his eyes, “Nurse Barnes, will you forgive me?” 

Becky smiled graciously, “Of course...now, what do we do, Professor?” 

The old man smiled triumphantly, running a hand through his hair, “Well...with how quickly his blood is fighting off the spores from the looks of it,” he cast a glance over at Paul, “We prepare for him to wake up.”

Tom was surprised at the man's sudden change in attitude, “Already?”

The man nodded vehemently, “The infection is almost completely gone, Captain! Look!”

He gestured to the microscope and Tom peered inside. What had once appeared as a light shade of purple when it had been drawn from the many swollen access points Paul’s arms, was now appearing almost completely red, like small specks of blue, in odd shapes, he could have sworn resembled amoeba’s or some biological bullshit he wouldn’t be able to understand, began to wither and die off. 

“Remarkable!!” The old man mused, his own excitement growing, confusing Tom even further, “Within 36 hours of removing the sedative and the influences of the Black and White, the infection is dying off!! Simply remarkable!”

There was something about the man’s tone that made Tom feel uneasy.

He raised an eyebrow, “Why are you suddenly not advocating for Paul’s death?!?” he wasn’t convinced the man was a sudden believer in Paul, “Just yesterday you were suggesting it was hopeless for him to ever come back...and suddenly...you’re back to wanting him alive?” 

The old man seemed to waver at that before jumping back to his sudden excitement, “Captain, you must understand…” he began keeping his voice even, “I have seen this blue pathogen ravage worlds and tear people apart...robbing them of their individuality...making them complacent murderers, and the only way I was able to stop some of them was putting a bullet in their heads.”

The man grimaced, “Now, I am not proud of the way I’ve treated this- _Paul,_ ” he corrected himself before he spoke the words ‘this thing’ again, “But you have to understand...I wouldn’t have suggested as such unless I was absolutely certain he was too far gone.”

“And were you certain?” Becky chimed in, raising an eyebrow, “Were you so sure that he wasn’t there anymore that you would have put him down without a second thought?”

The old man hesitated, casting another glance at Paul, “Perhaps.”

Tom sighed, “Well... _pal,_ ” he tried to fill his voice with as much acid as he could, looking at Hidgens, still untrusting of him, “When he wakes up, you owe him and Emma whole lotta apologies.”

“Speaking of,” Becky said, cutting Hidgens off before he could acknowledge Tom’s kinda-threat, “When do you think that will be?” 

Hidgens looked down at Paul again, before turning back to the blood samples from the past two days, lining the lab tables in neatly-labeled rows.

“Well,” he sighed glancing at the surroundings, a look Tom nor Becky could properly read, “I would say...with as quickly as his blood is reverting back to normal…”

He walked back over to the folder where the scans were kept, pulling out some scans with lime green and shades of light blue dotting the different regions of what was undoubtedly Paul’s brain, “...and how quickly these scans are being freed of anomalies…”

The old man trailed off, as if mentally calculating. He looked down at Paul, studying the man with a predatory-gaze that made Tom nervous. For a moment, he could have sworn he saw a flash of anger cross the Professor’s icy gaze. He pushed his own personal prejudices against the man away as he spoke again. 

“Captain Houston,” he whispered, turning back to face Tom, a grave expression on his face, “You may want to alert your sister-in-law.” 

“Why?” Tom asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Because…” the old man said, biting down on his lower lip as he searched the room, his next words sending Tom into a spiral of confusion. 

“We may need to wake him up in the next few hours. And we have to do it quickly.”

“What?!” Becky exclaimed, “Why?”

“Look at his vitals,” Hidgens explained pointing to the monitors, “With every passing minute, the rate at which he fights the infection grows quicker and quicker. The infection is almost completely eliminated. Watch.”

Hidgens retrieved an empty blood-collection tube and a catheter. He attached it to one of the access-points and began to draw another sample of blood. 

The sample size was the same amount they’d drawn within the previous few days, and yet Tom found himself stunned when the sample Hidgens had withdrawn was almost entirely a deep crimson...almost completely normal.

Quickly, almost furiously, Hidgens threw the slide he’d previously been studying into the trash and placed a drop of the new blood on another sterilized, clean slide. Immediately he pushed the sample under the microscope and adjusted it. He sat back with a satisfied smile, “Becky, if you would be so kind as to run a hematocrit on this new sample and compare it to the one from yesterday.”

A hematocrit… a test usually used for the testing of human blood to see how many red blood cells were within a certain amount of blood. While it had normally been used for Sickle Cell Anemic patients, the professor had been using it to study the concentration of the alien blue spore things in Paul’s blood in the past few weeks. 

Becky nodded and grabbed the vial from Hidgens hands. In spite of her not being a lab technician, she still had the skills necessary for running such tests, especially in Paul’s case, in which very few nurses and Doctors besides Becky, Abadi, Hidgens, and Nurse Chapel had been allowed around Paul. Because of this, Becky had become proficient in running lab tests by herself and passing on the data for Hidgens to analyze. 

Hidgens smiled, “I am only able to spot one, minute spore within this blood sample...once Becky is done with the hematocrit, we’ll know for sure.”

After a few moments, Becky withdrew a small micropipette tube from a centrifuge, where she’d placed a small amount of Paul’s blood for the separation of the blood components. Tom didn’t quite understand it, but it always left him in awe when he watched Becky do stuff like this. 

As she extended the tube to Hidgens, he inspected it thoroughly, “We can run a spore count…” he murmured, “But I would say that with the way the infection is drawing back this rapidly...we should have Paul back in two or three hours.”

At this, Tom instantly turned, bringing his transponder to his mouth, speaking into it as the appropriate comm code popped up on the tiny screen. 

“Emma...you need to get down here...he’s coming back.”

\---

_The noise...it was quieting...why?_

_The dark blue had suddenly retreated. So quickly, it receded from his mind like the ebbing of a tidal wave against the shores of his brain._

_The pain, unfortunately, remained, straining his veins, breaking his bones, stinging his eyes, making his throat sore._

_The lyrics...they’d stopped trying to entrance him._

_Instead, they were fading, their screams desperately trying to grow louder as they knew they were being threatened._

_In what felt like no time at all, what had been a midnight blue had suddenly become a pale shade of ice...brightening by the second._

_Still, the pain crashed over him._

_Every agonizing wave was trying to drag him back down...and, much to his own shock...it was failing._

_He fought to keep his mouth closed. Not wanting any horrific song to escape his lips._

_He didn’t understand what he was feeling._

_He couldn’t tell whether the blue tendrils were tightening or loosening their hold on him._

_All he could tell was that the voices were growing quieter and quieter...but he was still in pain._

_But...he was feeling more._

_He was hearing more...more beyond the scream-singing of the blue. He was hearing voices he could recognize as clear as a bell, providing some sweet balm to the agony and ringing that remained in his ears._

_He could almost picture their faces._

_He no longer had to hold onto them with a sense of ferociousness that made the pain all the worse._

_The images came to him naturally as the blue grew into an almost blinding shade of white._

_For a moment, the cacophony grew, and the blue darkened again...but somewhere...within himself he found the urge to fight back._

_He suddenly felt like he was back in his own body._

_He suddenly felt like he had some control._

_He felt like he could speak and not worry about lyrics._

_He could suddenly think for himself clearly...in spite of the ever-present pain._

_So...somewhere within himself...he fought back._

_Even though the next words he managed had once been lyrics...he thought them as clearly as though he was speaking them directly to the one person he wanted more than anything to get home to. The person he_ would _get home to._

_The person he loved more than anyone else. The person who made all of the growing agony bearable._

_He found the strength to speak...not a single lyric coming out in the melody they were supposed to._

**“Wait for me. I’m coming.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Becky is amazing. In this house, we love and respect Becky Barnes.   
> So...fourth passenger, huh?  
> Hopefully, they can wake Paul up...
> 
> ...hopefully. 
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you would like!!
> 
> Please wear a mask and keep yourself and others safe!  
> PLEASE VOTE IF YOU CAN!!
> 
> HAVE AN AMAZING DAY, LOVES!  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	31. Something Broke in Me and I Wanted to Come Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, guys/gals/enby pals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Wish That You Were Here" by Florence and the Machine (which gives me very strong Paulkins vibes)
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Emetophobia, hospitals, blood

Reset No. 6

Date: August 

Being Unknown 

Emma ran down the hallways, nearly careening into several agents as she went. If they yelled at her to watch where she was going, she didn’t hear them. She couldn’t care less about accidentally bumping into people when where she was going was all that mattered to her. 

She remembered the route well enough, after all, she’d stealthily walked it several times in the weeks before. But now, as her heart pounded in her chest, she couldn’t care less about remembering the exact turns and steps she had to take as she ran further and further through the hallways that all looked the same. Her path was clear. Everyone else be damned. 

As she made another very tight turn she could only think about Tom’s words. 

_ “He’s coming back.”  _

Tom didn’t even need to specify who it was that was coming back for her to run as fast as she could from Xander’s lab. She hadn’t even bothered to yell at Xander to give him an explanation for her sudden departure. She just needed to get to the isolation sector immediately. 

As she made it into the isolation sector and the walls turned a stony grey instead of the pristine white they’d been in the general lab areas. As she approached the few rooms that might have been cells...or mini-labs, she felt her heart drop. 

What if she’d misheard Tom?

What if Paul was really dead?

What if she’d only heard what she wanted to?

In spite of the growing fear that was making itself at home in her chest, she kept moving, searching for the appropriate room number. 

IO-201A

IO-201B

IO-203

She passed the rooms in a haste she couldn't bring herself to care about, even as her legs began to ache and twitch. She’d fallen slightly out of her hiking build since she’d returned back to Hatchetfield and the fact that her legs were still slightly out of commission from the coma she’d been in almost two weeks before. 

IO-217C

IO-219

IO-221A

IO-221B

IO-221 C

The thought that they’d gotten Paul back only two weeks ago was strange to her. To her, it felt like he’d been back for months and she’d only seen him for a minute in that time. Part of her felt like she was running to meet with an old friend she’d not seen for an eternity…

Still...somehow that couldn’t describe the exhilaration that filled her veins.

She was certain no words would be able to describe how she felt completely. 

On one hand, she was hopeful. She was hopeful that Paul would be alive and she would be there when he woke up and they could be together again. 

On the other, a crippling fear gripped her chest, making her heart feel like it could no longer beat. She was afraid that perhaps, he wouldn’t be the same person she’d fallen in love with. 

She stopped when she’d reached the room. 

_ IO-223 _

Her heart pounded in her chest as anxiety ate away at her. The door was sealed shut, so she’d have to knock before she entered, or maybe swipe an access key from someone else. 

Part of her was screaming to open the door. She could practically hear every cell in her body begging her to grab the handle and pull it open...if she could. She wanted nothing more than to be with him and now she was being given the chance. What was stopping her?

She figured it had to have been nerves. 

Part of her was afraid of what she would see. Part of her was afraid that Hidgens was trying to trick her. Part of her was afraid that maybe it wouldn’t be  _ her  _ Paul. 

After all, the only interaction she’d had with him since getting him back was the revelation that he’d been infected. Who was to say that he hadn’t been driven crazy as Hidgens had? Who was to say that being in the Black and White hadn’t changed him?

Memories of their lives before he’d been taken from her flooded her mind. 

Every smile. 

Every laugh.

Every tear. 

Every fight. 

Every kiss. 

Every time they spent holding hands. 

Every time they spent judging people together. 

Every time they would sleep clutching onto one another like they were stuffed animals. 

Every time one would have a hard day and the other would provide comfort as best they could. 

_ Every ounce of pain and sadness that they’d both experienced just so they could get back to one another.  _

Over a month ago, Emma hadn’t had anybody. She didn’t even have her brother in law and nephew. All she had was a shitty job, a shitty apartment, and a weird dream about a future in cannabis. She didn’t have anybody. No family. Just a name, a job, and a fuckton of grief she was processing alone. 

Then, suddenly she had  _ someone.  _ Someone whose name she couldn’t remember. Someone her soul was literally  _ tearing itself apart  _ to remember. She had dreams and memories that made her feel like perhaps her shitty life wasn’t completely awful. She had memories of a person who’d made her want to live life to the fullest in spite of the personal shame and guilt that marred her soul.

Then she had a name. Then they’d gotten him back. Then she’d lost him again. 

She’d only gotten him back to lose him again. 

She’d spent the past two weeks of his absence wondering about where he’d been. What they were doing. She wasn’t the religious type, but she’d murmured small prayers all the same when she could. At this point, she figured, anything was fair game to get him back. 

She knew she wanted him back more than anything.

She’d let him in when she was never letting anyone else in. He didn’t have to slip in through the cracks of her heart. He’d entered it like she’d given him the key without realizing. 

She’d let him into her lonely life. The life she’d sealed other people out with walls so high nobody could leap over them. Yet, somehow, he’d made it in...and made her whole in the process. He’d helped her discover things about herself she never would have expected from herself. He’d helped her grow and made her a better person. She’d wanted to be worthy of him just as much as he wanted to be worthy of her. 

God, it seemed so unbelievable that she was getting him back so suddenly. She wanted nothing more than to have him with her again, but the fear of what she didn’t understand was numbing. 

A hand on her shoulder snapped her out of her thoughts. She whirled around to see Xander, his eyes kind as John trailed close behind him. 

“You’re not going in?” Xander asked, raising a brow.

“I-” she started, looking down, trying very hard to think, “I want to...I’m just-” she trailed off, unsure of what to say. 

“You’re afraid of what you might see?” John asked, seemingly understanding. 

She managed a small nod, glancing back at the door, “I-I want to see him...but what if he’s not the same?” 

John nodded gravely before looking at her, seriousness in his eyes, “Remember what I said to you when I came out of the portal, two weeks ago?” 

To be honest she didn’t want to think about that awful day. Instead of letting her think about it, John went on. 

“I told you…” he said, searching her seriously, “That Paul loves you immeasurably...do you remember that?” 

She felt heat go to her cheeks as she managed a small nod. 

“If you do, then you shouldn’t lose faith,” John murmured, “Now, I’ve seen people fall mad to the influences of the Black and White...I’ve seen people lose their sanity and be reduced to shells of their former selves...but I guarantee you, Paul Matthews isn’t one of them.”

She swallowed and looked back up at John. In the past few weeks, John and Xander had provided help in ways they could never understand. In some ways, they’d managed to get her updates about Paul that nobody would have given her. She’d been allowed to at the very least know that Paul was alive when most didn’t know they’d pulled him from the portal, to begin with. 

She managed a small smile at the two men, “Thank you.”

The door opened suddenly and her heart dropped when she saw Tom standing there, a disbelieving expression on his face. 

“Emma,” he managed, making her stomach do a cartwheel in the cavity of her chest, “You gonna come in?” 

She inhaled and exhaled, the fear eating away at her. In spite of this, she managed a small terse nod. Xander’s hand was still on her shoulder as she entered the room. 

She didn’t pause to take in the scenery this time, instead, she looked directly over to where Paul was laying.

She stopped in her tracks, her breath caught in her throat. 

He was still unconscious, but Becky was removing some of the unnecessary tapes and electrodes from his face allowing her to see him more clearly. 

Had she already not been emotionally exhausted, she would have sobbed at the almost-full sight of his face. The previous time she’d visited him, she’d not been able to see much of his face or hair due to all the wires and tubes that seemed to engulf him. She took another step towards him. His eyes were still closed, but the blue shadows under his eyes had lessened, making him look like he was less of a corpse. The sickly sheen of sweat that had covered his brow had also lessened, although the guy looked and smelled like he could use a shower. His soft hair had been plastered to his forehead, she assumed by whatever sweat that had been left. He seemed to be in more pain, in spite of him looking healthier, a fact that made her heart sink. She wanted him to be free from all of this pain. 

She gently brushed a hand through the hair that had gone stiff against his forehead, pushing it out of his still-closed eyes. Most of the tubes had been removed from him except for the breathing tube and a small oxygen tube that went just inside his nostrils. Becky looked like she was about to remove the breathing tube as she stepped a little closer, still studying him. 

“Emma,” Hidgens voice cut through her thoughts quickly making her look over at him with an angry glare, he held up his hands in surrender, “I just wanted to apologize to you...I-”

“Save it.” she snapped, not willing to grant him any grace at the moment, “You can apologize to  _ him _ when he’s awake.”

The old man nodded and gestured at Becky, “If you want to remove the breathing tube, he should be waking up within the next few hours.” 

Becky moved to remove the breathing tube, forcing Emma to look away as she did, cringing inwardly. After a few short moments, she looked back to see Becky wiping his face gently before stepping back. 

For a moment she was unsure of what to do. It seemed like the room was just waiting…waiting for him to do something. 

After a few moments, she sat down on the tiny amount of the mattress that wasn’t occupied by Paul. She looked down at the cuffs that still kept his hands bound to the bed. She reached out and began to uncuff one, not caring about whether or not anyone was looking or trying to prevent her. Once she’d freed his right hand she took it in hers, allowing her fingers to gently trace the red marks that had been left behind. For a moment, she looks at small areas where the material had chafed painfully against his skin, leaving some of it red and puffy. Part of her wanted to yell at them for how tight the cuff had apparently been but instead took to just looking down at Paul, saying nothing. 

Seeing him like this hurt. 

While he looked better than what she’d seen earlier on in his stay, she could still tell that he was very much in pain. With the way his head lolled off to the side and the way his eyes looked like they’d been squeezed shut. As she studied him, she took notice of the sickening bruises and marks, left behind from where Hidgens and Becky had placed IVs and had gathered samples. It stirred a form of anger deep in her chest that she swallowed down furiously. She could save the rage for later, what mattered right now was the fact that she was with him, something she’d wanted for so long.

That didn’t make it any less painful to look at the bruises and bandages that covered the man she loved more than anyone else in the world. 

Still, she found herself speechless. 

Nothing needed to be said. She couldn’t care less how weird or sappy it looked, she just looked down at his hand in her much smaller ones. She softly ran a thumb over the raw skin before looking up at Hidgens. 

“How long do you…”

“Mmmm-a” 

The sound was strangled and quiet, but she'd heard it.

She looked up, expecting the words to have come from Xander or even Tom in an attempt to subtly get her attention. But she was met by stunned expressions and closed mouths. Nobody else had spoken. 

“Mmmmmmmm-aa” 

There the sound was again. Muffled and extremely quiet...but still there. 

Her eyes darted from the faces of the individuals in the room, they all wore expressions of shock and were looking in her direction...but not at her. 

_ Holy shit.  _

“Emmmmm-aaaa _ ” _

She turned to look down at Paul, shock growing in her heart as his eyes scrunched up and relaxed over and over again. His eyebrows drew together before he sharply inhaled and exhaled. His head whipped to the side, and a small pained noise escaped his lips. His hands clenched and unclenched into fists as he shifted from side to side, his body slightly shaking like he was being electrocuted. 

Her heart pounded in her chest as she held his hand closer to her, unable to believe what she was witnessing. 

_ He was waking up _ . 

Her voice was barely a whisper as she tried very hard to say the only thing she could think to say, holding his hand closer to her and gripping it tightly. 

“Paul…?” 

\---

_ The blue was almost completely white now, making his head ache. Every cell in his body seemed to be in pain as he tried desperately to fight off what blue there was left.  _

_ The now icy-blue tendrils, as faint as the pigment was, were still trying very hard to drag him back downward, hurting him all the more. With every breath he managed, he was fighting against the screams. Their siren song telling him to sing… to fall back down into their oblivion of song. To be dragged into the depths of lyrical submission. _

_ He didn’t know why he was suddenly able to fight it off, but he knew it was what he had to do.  _

_ In spite of having no concept of time, he felt like he’d been stuck in the blue forever, and was desperate to get out.  _

_ Then he heard her voice.  _

_ “Save it. You can apologize to him when he’s awake.” _

_ She sounded angry and bitter, but it was her.  _

_ There was no way it could have been anyone else.  _

_ Her voice was the clearest amongst the noise. In spite of her anger that was evident, she was there.  _

_ Emma.  _

_ She was beckoning him home.  _

_ The pain rose in his chest as he tried to call out for her. _

_ Tried to let her know that he was there.  _

_ That he was with her. _

_ It was almost as if...he was reaching for her hand.  _

_ A wave of shock overtook him as he suddenly realized he could feel more than just her presence.  _

_ He could feel her skin against his own.  _

_ Even though he couldn't see her with the blinding of the blue-white light, he could feel the way her fingers were gently tracing the skin of his sore wrists...a wonderful feeling. _

_ She was there.  _

_ She was there  _ for him _. _

_ He tried to call out for her but the pain in his throat had grown to the point where all that came out was a hoarse strangled whimper. _

_ He cringed inwardly at himself. _

_ He couldn’t care about the excruciating pain he was experiencing that hummed in his veins and screamed in his skull. He just wanted to let her know he was there. That he was with her. _

_ The pain rose like a tidal wave inside him as he tried and tried again. Her hand never stilled on his wrist, in its gentleness, but he couldn’t say anything.  _

_ If he could, he would have screamed out for her, to tell her that he was there. That he was going to keep fighting, but the agony was making his head hazy and his eyes burn. His throat ached from his resistance and made him want to cry out as opposed to singing or even trying to communicate.  _

_ Part of him felt so...so tired. _

_ This endless battle that he’d been fighting for what seemed like an eternity had taken its toll. Now, every part of his soul, his spirit, felt like it was in pain and exhausted. And yet...there was the part of his soul that was motivated to keep fighting.  _

_ It had to be the part of his soul that she occupied. There was nobody in his life that he could think of that would be so persistent. She had to be the thing that was keeping him from sinking. In spite of how much his body begged him to give in to whatever was left of the blue infection, she kept calling him back, and she was doing it even now.  _

_ She was there for him and he would be there for her.  _

_ He just had to keep fighting.  _

_ While he couldn’t see her, the feeling of her gently holding his hand, pushing his hair out of his face provided a source of comfort and relief from the pain...and a motivator for him to keep trying.  _

_ She didn’t say much, but he knew she was there. He didn’t want to know how he looked to her, instead, he focused on trying to reach her again.  _

_ Emma.  _

_ Her name was the only thing he could think to say.  _

_ He opened his mouth trying to find the strength to speak. Actually, speak. Not think the rebellious lyrics or words that would only prompt the blue to torment him further. He was actually going to speak.  _

_ Speak so that she would hear him.  _

_ As he tried, another wave of agony overtook him, sending him into a shaky spasm of a soundless scream. The pain was blinding, almost making him lose his sense of Emma’s hand. When he opened his eyes again in the blue, he nearly forgot that her hand was there. The stinging aftershocks of the pain wave were still there, a lingering warning not to attempt it again.  _

_ Still, he resolved to try again.  _

_ Again, the pain overwhelmed him, clutching at his chest, seeping into his skin, making his bones feel like they were shattered and being pieced back together bit by bit. He screamed, but he knew his cries would go unheard by anyone in the real world.  _

_ The blue tried to tighten its grip on him but he still tried to shake it off, the part of his soul that was determined to see Emma again becoming the loudest voice in his psyche.  _

_ He opened his mouth again and focused on Emma. Nothing else.  _

_ The feeling of her hands against his arm, against his wrist. The way she gently rubbed at the part of his wrist that felt raw and achy, providing something to focus on. Her face appeared in his mind again, calling him home. He tried to imagine what every moment he spent with her was like. The life he’d had with her serving as something that was going to spur him onward. _

_ She started to speak the second he tried again.  _

_ “How long do you…” _

_ “ _ Mmmm-a.”

_ The word came out strangled and distorted but with a brief moment of shock, he realized that the word had actually left his lips...better yet, the fact that she’d been cut off indicated that she’d  _ heard _ him.  _

_ He had to try again. Nobody else was speaking, and although the pain had risen to something that blurred his thoughts and made him feel like the world was fading in and out of existence for him. Again, part of his spirit wished for the release of death...to give in and die to himself, but the stronger part of his soul knew that he had to keep going.  _

_ The blue in his vision had almost completely faded. Even though everything hurt, he had to keep going. The word left his lips again, clearer, but still prompting more pain...growing in magnitude by the second.  _

“Mmmmmmmm-aa”

_ Though his mind rejoiced at the success of speaking again, his body ached, stabbing through him with an even greater amount of pain that made him writhe as the rest of the word faded into his own cries of pain...although, he wasn’t sure they could hear it.  _

_ Pain flared up his spine in waves that were both burning hot and freezing cold, making him jolt as the white light grew, hurting his eyes. His breaths caught in his chest, his lungs screaming for air, beating against his ribs in anger as he struggled to focus all the same. His body shook as the pain subsided somewhat, a final warning to him. He knew that he had to do the next one right or he would be ready to give up...and then he’d return to the midnight blue without any hope of ever seeing Emma again.  _

_ The idea of being dragged into a dreamless sleep suddenly didn’t seem so bad. Maybe the cold blue numbness would be better than the pain of resistance. Maybe his compliance would be rewarded. Maybe sleep was better than being awake for the end of the- _

_ The grip of Emma’s hand on his tightened gently and his mind raced, chasing the doubts away from his brain.  _

_ What was he thinking?  _

_ He needed to be there for Emma. _

_ He made a promise to her when she didn’t even know his name and he was going to follow through on it.  _

_ He’d sworn to make it home to her, why should the blue be the only thing that was separating them?  _

_ He would make it home to Emma.  _

_ He was too close to give up now, his own pain be damned.  _

_ He focused on her memory, on her face. Those eyes he could get lost in within two seconds of looking at her. The way she would get chatty when she was nervous or stressed. The way she made him feel like he was flying even just by looking at her. The way she made him laugh on his worst days. How fantastic it felt knowing that he loved her with his whole heart and that she loved him too. Just being allowed to be called hers was enough to get him through the worst of days.  _

_ He wanted that back.  _

_ He’d never been more sure of the fact that he’d wanted something in his life. He’d never been motivated to become something more than he already was until he’d fallen for her. He’d wanted to be worthy enough to be called hers. To give up now would be to relinquish that right and give up any and all hope of ever being allowed near her again.  _

_ He would continue to fight.  _

_ He would fight with all the strength he could so he could get home to Emma.  _

_ To be worthy to share a life with her.  _

_ He focused on her name again. The beautiful word he’d given his heart to. The word that he would always speak with the utmost love and admiration, even on days when they would be upset with one another. Even on rough days where they would disagree, her name was his favorite word...and he would use it to pull himself free. _

_ He opened his mouth, and in spite of the pain that had enveloped his body whole, encapsulating him in waves of icy hot agony, making him feel like he was being torn apart and stitched back together, cell-by-cell, he spoke as loud and as clear as he could.  _

“Emmmmm-aaaa”

_ He cursed himself inwardly as the word came out awkwardly, and shaky, he was certain that he hadn’t been strong enough as he braced himself for the punishment. The agony tied itself around his arms like vines overtaking a wall, establishing dominance amidst any and all other life, blinding him, making him feel like he was about to be snuffed out, like a candle in a strong northern wind. He prepared himself to say his goodbyes as the exhaustion and agony was ready to envelop him in death’s painful stroke- _

“Paul...?” 

_ Her voice echoed in his ears. Pulling him upward again. The melodic sound of her voice, even though it lacked any music at all, sent him into shock.  _

_ The pain disappeared, he caught his breath as the light grew brighter. Instead of blinding and stinging his eyes, the light enveloped him, filling him with warmth and light and…life. _

_ Above all else, life. _

His eyes shot open and he lurched up, ignoring the soreness in his chest and back. 

When he was met with the light in the room, he squeezed his eyes shut, his eyes watering. 

His lungs were screaming for air and his throat felt raw, as he coughed, desperately trying to take in any and all air he could. All sounds were muted as he felt something being pressed against his face, an oxygen mask of sorts, allowing him to access oxygen easier as he caught his breath.

As his senses returned to him, he opened his eyes slowly to take in his surroundings. 

He was able to see walls of dark grey stone and warm orange light that was being cast by monitors that appeared to be attached to him. As his vision became less blurry he was able to make out the figures of Hidgens, Xander, Becky, Tom, and John. 

The older man looked shocked but a small smile came onto his face, “Welcome back Paul,” he murmured, something reminiscent of pride in his face. His voice sounded like it was underwater, muffled, almost like he couldn’t quite hear it completely but the message got across all the same. 

He opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to enquire as to where Emma was, but all that came out was a bout of raspy coughing. Someone held out a bucket in front of him and he retched into it, coughing violently. 

He shook as the remainder of blue fluid and blood made its way out of his system, causing him to spasm with every cough. His stomach felt so painfully empty that he almost completely missed the familiar feeling of someone clutching onto his arm and rubbing his back gently. He squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for it to be over. 

When the heaving and gagging ceased, someone wiped at his mouth with a towel gently and another person eased him gently back down against both the pillows and another person’s arms, that he didn’t notice. 

“This is normal,” a rougher man's voice, Hidgens, said, “He’s expelling what’s left of the infection in order to properly normalize. There’s no need for alarm. 

“We’ll give you guys some privacy so we don’t overwhelm him,” Xander was saying, his voice sympathetic, “Please update me and John on his progress.”

“I’m very glad to see you back, Paul,” John's voice spoke before the sound of militaristic footsteps signaled the fact that he had left. 

Paul couldn’t find the strength to respond. 

It took a while before he realized he was being addressed. 

“Sir,” He knew it was Hidgens, “Can you tell me your name and your birthday?” 

He choked on his words, still trying to gain a handle on his words and senses. All sights and sounds were blurred. He was unable to make out what exactly he was looking at, but his memory told him who was there. 

“Paul…” he choked out, his voice painfully hoarse “Paul Jonathan Matthews...October eleventh, nineteen eighty-seven…” 

The words were harsh and wobbly as he spoke them. Hidgens should have known he wasn’t entirely in his own head as he was still trying to gain control of himself. 

The next words left his lips in such a quiet, hoarse whisper he wasn’t sure that Hidgens or Becky had heard him. 

“ _ Where's Emma?”  _

He couldn’t hear any response as Hidgens left the room, leaving Becky with some instructions that sounded like ‘make sure he’s comfortable’ before he left. 

It was then that Paul realized that someone was sitting next to him. He probably hadn’t noticed at first because it felt so  _ natural  _ to have that presence there. 

A gentle hand ran up and down Paul’s back.

A familiar gentle touch. 

“Paul…?” A familiar, beautiful, gentle voice asked, making his eyes open slightly. 

His chest was still heaving as he tried desperately to catch his breath, and his vision was still slightly blurred but he could make out a turquoise and red blur making its way around the room. He assumed it was Becky but he didn’t have time to offer a greeting. Instead, he tried to find the source of whatever was running a hand up and down the sore areas of his spine.

His head felt extremely heavy as he turned to look at the face of the familiar person who was holding him close, almost unsure of what to do. The touch of her hand, as faint as it was, was so familiar, he didn’t need a second to recognize her. 

He was met by a pair of wide dark eyes filled with tears that were obviously desperately attempting to be stifled. The confusion, pain, and vague joy that swirled in her eyes was something he could only take in, as her name was read like a beautiful poem in his mind, and a form of joy that he couldn’t comprehend overtook him.

_ Emma.  _

She looked even more beautiful than he remembered. There was no memory he could ever conceive that would ever truly capture the beauty of this woman. 

This woman he’d just made it home to. 

This woman who was leaving him speechless as he stared at her. 

This woman he loved more than anything in the whole wide world.

Their eyes locked onto one another's. Both filling with tears and emotion that neither of them would be able to understand.

Her dark eyes were wide in concern and she stared at him, clearly unsure of what she was to do. 

“Paul…” she said, her voice thick and heavy like she was holding back tears, “You with me?”

He caught his breath as something of a cry rose in his throat, clamping in his neck, making him feel several emotions he couldn’t even begin to process. 

“ _ Em…”  _ He whispered, the word leaving his lips like a language he’d never forgotten how to speak. 

A single tear rolled down her cheek and she nodded, cupping his face gently. She let out a wet, weak laugh as more tears streamed down her face. Her words were choked with emotion as she stroked his face gently with her thumb“H-hi…”

Not caring about the bandages and the stiffness of his muscles, he pulled himself upward and into her arms, a small sob escaping him as he did. 

He wrapped his stiff, aching arms around her, holding her as close as he could. 

“ _ Emma…”  _ he whispered, taking in everything about her. The feeling of her within his arms. The scent of her hair. The pattern of her breathing, which was disrupted slightly by her tears. 

Her arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer to her, holding on comfortably. 

“Paul…” she whispered through her sobs, her face buried in his shoulder as her fingers threaded themselves into his hair.

Her name left his lips over and over again as he would never get tired of saying it. The tears fell and soaked into her soft shirt as he shuddered against her, unable to believe that he was truly in her arms. 

“I’m-” he choked on the words, a small hoarse laugh making its way from the back of his throat, “I’m home.”

She laughed and pressed a kiss to his forehead, her tears falling onto his face as he held her closer, unwilling to let go. 

He pulled back, one of his stiff hands cupping her jaw, just so he could stare at her. He unconsciously slumped back against the pillows at the protestations of his muscles and injuries, but he couldn’t stop smiling at Emma. 

He let out a sob and smiled big as he took in her face. The face he’d wanted more than anything to look at and tell her he loved her more than anything else in the godforsaken world. 

“It’s-” she stammered, sobs pouring out of her as her face was caught in a tearful smile, “It’s you...you’re here.”

“I’m home,” he repeated tearfully with a nod, he was back and he’d never leave her again. 

She fell forward and nestled closer to him, burrowing her head into his shoulder and holding him impossibly close. She was gentle, though, as though she was trying very hard to avoid hurting him. Honestly, she could crush him in her embrace and he couldn’t care. The joy of being in her arms again was a joy he never wanted to lose sight of. 

“I-I-” she choked, muffled into his shoulder, “I’m s-so  _ sorry,  _ Paul…”

“You weren’t- I couldn’t- I-” She sobbed harder into his arm, “I-I forgot and I-  _ 'm so sorry _ ”

“No,” He shook his head, cutting her off, “You did n-nothing wrong and I’m here now…” the last part of the sentence faded off as his hoarse voice broke painfully. 

She looked up at him and he wiped gently away at her tears with his thumb. 

“I-I missed you so much, P-Paul…” She sniffed, the tears falling even more as she pulled herself closer so that she was laying with him, in his arms. 

He gently pressed a light kiss to her forehead, crying harder as she shook against him. 

“I missed, you too, Em…” he said in a raspy whisper. 

For a moment, they just lay there, coming to accept the fact that they were back in one another's arms after having found and lost one another time and time again. They’d both seen one another die and be lost so many times, and now, they had been reunited- _ really- _ for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

He couldn’t believe it.

He was holding Emma again.

She was in his arms, snuggled close, and looking like she didn’t plan on letting go any time soon. 

He was a mess. 

He was certain he smelled awful from having not showered since he’d died in the past reset, and the bruises and bandages that covered them couldn’t have looked appealing. He was certain that if he looked in a mirror, he would see a zombified-version of himself. Still, she was holding him all the same. 

She looked up at him, a smile on her face, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she raised a single hand to hold his face, stroking his skin gently with her thumb. 

It almost didn’t seem real to him.

All that time he’d spent in the Black and White and then the Blue had felt like several thousand lifetimes. While in Hatchetfield time, it had probably been a span of a few months (or at the very least since Jane died), he felt like he’d spent too long away from the real world. Away from her. 

He planned to never leave her, so long as she would have him. 

He met her eyes and she craned up to meet him.

Within a few moments, her lips brushed against his in the first kiss he’d received since before he’d died. Bliss overtook his mind and he cupped her head, holding her closer. 

It wasn’t rushed, or overly passionate. It wasn’t rough or bearing any selfish intention. All there was in that room was him and her. They’d been separated for far too long, and now they were back in one another's arms, finding the happiness they’d lost and rememorizing one another through wordless embraces.

As he lost himself in her kiss, he felt like he could fly off the ends of the earth with the joy that consumed him. He’d forgotten how wonderful moments like this were. Moments where he remembered that he was hers. 

They broke apart and she got comfortable, holding him tighter and looking at him like she’d just seen a ghost...but not in a bad way. There was fond amazement in her gaze when she spoke again. 

“I love you, Paul.”

His heart leaped in his sore chest and the raspy words left him without hesitation. The words that he’d been longing to say to her for what felt like forever finally were able to be expressed outside of his previously tormented mind. 

“I love you too, Em.”

He was home. 

She _was_ home. 

And for the first time in forever, in Emma's arms, Paul Matthews felt peace.

\---

Henry fumed as he stalked down the hallway, avoiding eye contact with any other individuals who crossed his path. 

He should have known. He should have prevented the Barnes woman from even being in the room to consider the inconsistencies. 

Now, Paul was awake and alive.

Even worse, he was reunited with Emma before he could even put up any barriers. 

_ “Don’t fret, little one.” _ the whisper chided, “ _ You shall have your chance.” _

_ What chance?  _ He thought back, rebelliously, making sure his thoughts emphasized his bitterness and anger,  _ They’re onto the plan. They know about the cheating.  _

_ “Patience, little one,” _ the voice answered, “ _ You always have a Plan B.” _

Plan B? 

It was true, in terms of preparation, Henry Hidgens had always had backup plans for any of his endeavors...but this…

_ We had our chance!! _ He thought back angrily,  _ Everything we worked for is ruined! _

_ “Opportunity,”  _ the voice chimed in his ears, “ _ You’ll see...just observe.” _

He muttered under his breath as he came into the commissary. The smells of interesting foods that didn’t allow much nutritional value or tastes entered his nostrils quickly. He scanned the room, looking for something, anything. Anything that could let him flip the switch in the plan. 

How was he supposed to pull this off? Paul and Emma were back in the game. He’d missed his chance to kill either of them. How was he to...

Wait.

His gaze fell upon the figure of one of his students across the room. 

He observed as she stood with her little sister and everything fell into place. 

It hit him. 

He knew he could still win. 

_ Ah.  _

_ Plan B.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's back...but at what cost?
> 
> Emma Perkins loves Paul Matthews.  
> Paul Matthews loves Emma Perkins.  
> That's it. That's the chapter.   
> Hidgens do be gettin' sneaky though. 
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos!! I greatly appreciate it!
> 
> I hope you guys are doing well and are staying safe!!  
> Please wear masks and properly socially distance or I might fight you :)
> 
> AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! HAVE A GREAT DAY!!!


	32. Awake and Unafraid, Asleep or Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan has a reunion and makes a promise.  
> Paul and Emma have trauma, but they are prepared to walk together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the song "Famous Last Words" by My Chemical Romance (which slaps).

Reset No. 6

Date: August 20th, 2018

Being Unknown

Ethan raced down the hallways, Hannah trailing behind him, smiling wildly. 

He’d known for four days that Paul was awake...and normal, but he’d not been allowed in to see him, since the process of healing was taking a little while, and Hidgens needed to be sure that Paul was, well... _Paul_.

Because of that, the only non-PEIP personnel allowed in was Emma, which Ethan had begrudgingly understood and bit his tongue, in spite of how excited he was to check in on Paul.

John had given him updates on their friend’s progress and had gushed about how sweet the reunion between him and Emma had been, which had surprised Ethan. In spite of being a stone-cold General with the professionalism and stature of a statue, he really was a sucker for all that mushy-romance shit. The look in John’s eyes when he’d mentioned that Paul was awake and with Emma again had been something straight from a rom-com, he was sure. 

In a way, he understood, though, why John was so enthralled by it. He and John had been reunited with their soulbonds while Paul had been torn away from Emma time and time again. It wasn’t a fair roll of the dice for the man, Ethan knew. 

Part of him was grateful that Paul had allowed him and John to leave the Black and White first as a way of preventing them from getting the brunt of whatever Apatha had attempted to accomplish. He was guilty of being slightly glad it was Paul and not himself, but the idea of coming back and potentially being a source of harm for Lex and Hannah...the idea was sickening. 

All that mattered now, was that _all three_ of them were free from the hellscape that had deemed them prisoner for several lifetimes, and now they could enjoy real life, in the real world. Not just watching the world from the shadows. 

Here, they existed. 

Here, they mattered. 

As they entered the general infirmary, where Paul had apparently been moved the day before, he felt his stomach tie up in knots.

Over the course of being in the Black and White, Paul and Johnny had served almost as mentors or uncles to him. They’d become parent-like figures to him in a time when he felt like he had no one. Only Mr. Houston had filled that void briefly before he’d left. 

As he approached the room that Johnny had informed him where Paul was staying until he would be discharged later in the day. He inhaled and exhaled sharply, looking down at Hannah, who grinned. 

“Okay?” she asked, her eyes wide in spite of her grin unwavering. 

He smiled at her, she somehow managed to make everything seem less nauseating, even when things were at their worst. God, besides Lex, Hannah was easily his favorite person in the world. 

Since Paul had woken up, Hannah had been unable to stop talking about the unfair game and how she wanted to go see him. He was a little bit put-off by the ramblings, but the knowledge that something else had probably come out of the Black and White wasn’t necessarily something that disproved it. He might not have been able to understand what she meant, but he knew that her words were not without cause. Still, she’d been excited to pay Paul a visit, and now that he’d been moved to the general infirmary, they’d be allowed to. 

He walked up to the door and opened it slightly, rapping his hand against the door. 

“Come in.” A familiar, albeit raspy voice sounded. 

He peeked in and found Paul, sitting up, on top of the itchy-looking covers of the hospital bed. In front of him, there was an expanse of cards that lead to Emma, who was sitting comfortably, cross-legged, across from him. They seemed to be in the middle of a card game of sorts. He was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt, identical to the clothes that had been given to Ethan when he’d been in the infirmary. His long arms were dotted with bruises and marks, signaling where IV’s and other types of tubes had once been, and where one still remained in the crook of his elbow. Regardless of the uncomfortable-looking marks, and the fatigue which clearly marked his face, Paul seemed relaxed. He seemed happy. 

As Ethan entered, Hannah behind him, Paul’s face lit up. 

“Ethan!” he smiled, “Come in!”

As Ethan and Hannah shuffled into the room, Ethan took in the sight before him, smiling widely. 

They’d all made it.

All three of them were alive. 

“H-Hey man,” Ethan managed to stammer, “We heard you were out of isolation...and we figured we could stop by.”

“Took you long enough,” Emma snorted, before throwing down a set of cards that made Paul groan, “Once he’d gotten past the shock that he was still alive, it was always ‘is Ethan okay?’ or ‘is he settling in alright?’ nonstop,” she snorted again as Paul drew a card from the deck with a mock-annoyed expression on his face, “I had to tell him several times that you’d be in soon enough to visit for him to shut up.”

“What can I say, I was curious...he was dead, after all,” Paul laughed before Emma threw down another set of three cards and he groaned again, “Hey! I don’t think it’s very fair of you to be beating me at cards when I’m the patient.”

She only responded with an evil-sounding snicker before she turned back to the two of them with a soft smile, “I told him you guys were doing wonderful, but I think seeing you guys now might just be enough to shut him up.” 

Ethan grinned, “Yeah...we’re doing great!” 

Paul raised an eyebrow, “You’re adjusting to being alive again well enough?” 

“Oh, being alive is the best!” Ethan said, quickly growing excited, “I mean, you get shit like headaches every once in a while, but people can _see you_ and _talk to you_ like you’re there, and you are there.”

Paul nodded with a smile, “I get it.”

Ethan felt his smile drop slightly. He and Paul were having a conversation. In real life. Like normal people. Just a few months ago, it would have seemed impossible for either of them to be back in Hatchetfield and not be tethered to the Black and White. But now, there they were. Their soulmates knew who they were, and they were happy. 

Happy.

That was something Ethan had grown mostly unfamiliar with while he’d been stuck in the Black and White. Sure, he’d never been downright depressed...he was pretty sure...but he’d never been jumping for joy either. He’d just been. 

But now that he was back in this world. John and Paul were back too. They weren’t all living in a state of numbness, watching as their loved ones lived and died without them. How had they ever lived like that?

Emma set down another set of cards and Paul threw his head back exasperatedly, “That’s the fifth time, Em!!”

She snickered, “I can’t help it that Gin Rummy is my game, bud.”

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to play BS?” He said, looking up at Ethan, “I swear she’s cheating or something.” 

“Hey!” Emma exclaimed, lightly slapping his shoulder before gathering the cards in her hands, passing them to Paul, “Shuffle these, I’m not about to embarrass myself again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paul muttered, a small smile covering his face. Ethan could see the guy was happier than he’d ever been in the Black and White- which made sense, considering that the Black and White might as well have been a hellscape. Paul looked up at him as he expertly shuffled the deck, “Do you and Hannah wanna join?” 

Ethan shook his head, “We just wanted to check up on you, make sure you weren’t dead…”

Paul chuckled, “Nah...I unfortunately lived.”

Emma shook her head with a small hoarse laugh, “You’re both here, and you’re both alive. And unless you piss me or Lex off, we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ethan chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. Beside him, Hannah tugged at his sleeve. 

He looked down at her, “You need somethin’, Banana?” 

She looked up at Paul and stepped forward, “Fourth passenger,” she muttered, “Followed you.”

For a moment, Paul’s eyes filled with confusion, he looked up at Ethan, “Does she mean…”

“I’m assuming John and Emma filled you in on the theory that the three of us were not the only things that came through that portal?” Ethan said, not wanting to get into another long explanation. 

Paul’s face suddenly turned pale as he nodded, “Do we...do we know _what_ exactly came through?” 

“Bad mask,” Hannah said, nodding her head with certainty, “Masks everywhere. Puppet.”

Paul looked at Emma, “You said that whatever...the thing is… it was using what…” he paused for a second, flinching for a second as if the memory was painful to even consider, “What happened to me...as a distraction?” 

Emma nodded, “We don’t know what it is, but judging from the energy levels that were detected in the portal room, versus the evidence you presented...it’s big.” 

Paul didn’t seem to like this answer as he set down the cards. He reached out and took Emma’s hand before looking at Hannah, “Did Webby tell you this?” 

Hannah shook her head, “Webby’s gone silent. _I_ could sense it.”

Paul met Ethan’s eyes, “Webby’s gone silent?” 

Ethan nodded, “She hasn’t been able to hear her...and Johnny, he was the only one who talked to her while we were in the Black and White...so...We’re kinda at a loss.”

Paul paled even more, “So...we succeeded in sealing up the Bleed, but something else got through?” 

Ethan really hoped the answer couldn’t be yes. Despite the knowledge that something else from the Black and White had gotten through the portal and had decided to take root in the world being something of immense importance and anxiety, he’d hoped that maybe it wouldn’t be destructive. So far, the only good thing that had come out of the Black and White had been Lex’s and Hannah’s abilities, which had freed him, Johnny, and Paul, and that had been a once in a lifetime deal. 

Regardless, the idea of the apocalypse coming to wipe them all out...they knew it was inevitable. Unavoidable. As constant as time itself. 

Paul seemed to understand this, in spite of Ethan’s not saying anything. He sighed deeply and looked back at Hannah, “Do you know when?” 

Hannah shook her head sagely, “Chance. Masks. Puppet.”

Those three words seemed to reverberate through the room, leaving everyone speechless in a way. He didn’t really know what to say to Paul to make him feel better. Surprisingly, it was Emma who spoke next. 

“Hannah…” she started, “You said chance...does that mean we could...fight this?” 

Everyone paused...was that a possibility?

Ethan didn’t think so. While he’d wanted to be on the more optimistic side of things, he’d seen enough resets to know that fighting back against the forces of the Black and White was a futile effort. Paul had to know too, in spite of his not seeing any resets himself. 

“Yes.” Hannah muttered, causing both Paul and Ethan to whip towards her, “Unfair game. Unfair advantage. Gives us a chance.”

Ethan and Paul met one another's gaze again.

Paul spoke gently and hesitantly, “We...have a chance?” 

Hannah nodded, “Not the right turn. Cheated. Unfair advantage...have a chance.”

The three adults seemed to contemplate those words until Becky Barnes entered the room, her cheery disposition acting almost like a breath of fresh air amidst the smog of the inevitably coming apocalypse. 

“Alright, Paul,” She said, not noticing that Hannah and Ethan were in there, “We’re gonna start the process of getting you out of here if- Oh! Hi Hannah, Ethan, how are you?” 

Her eyes brightened when they fell on Ethan and Hannah, who were standing somewhat awkwardly at the interruption. 

“Oh sorry!” She said, realizing that she must have walked in on something, “Did I interrupt?”

“No, Beck, It’s fine…” Ethan mumbled, not really wanting to continue to talk about the potential end of the world, “We’ve got to get going anyway, Lex is gonna be finished with training with Hidgens any minute, so we’ve got to go meet them.” 

This technically was true, only Lex hadn’t been training with Hidgens for the sake of training with him and ‘honing’ her abilities. Rather, she’d decided she was going to continue her training with him in order to keep an eye on him, reporting back to Johnny and Xander to determine whether or not he was trustworthy. They’d decided that just because he’d stepped off of the ‘let's kill Paul’ platform briefly, didn’t mean that he was trustworthy. Ethan didn’t like it, but he also knew that Lex could handle herself better than most people. She’d told him that she wasn’t willing to risk his or Hannah’s lives because Hidgens was under the influence of some undetermined apocalyptic force. Besides, she had a valid excuse to be around him. 

Because of that, the plan mainly revolved around Lex and Emma being sneaky around him. Emma, because she worked in the labs and had previously had Hidgens as a teacher, had spent as much time as she could, observing and taking note of the man’s eccentric behavior. Vigilance was the name of the game, Johnny had said...whatever that meant. Still, he understood the urgency behind the mission. If they didn’t pay attention, it was likely the world would come crashing down around them again...and possibly would be even worse than before. 

Becky smiled, “Well, tell her I said hi…” she turned to Paul and Emma, “You ready to move into an actual apartment?”

Paul smiled slightly, still slightly off-put by the discussion of the apocalypse. He turned to Emma, warmth filling his expression, “Yeah...yeah I am.”

God, they were cute. 

“Great!” Becky clapped her hands together, “You don’t have paperwork, since it’s the infirmary, but we do still have to remove any IVs and make sure you can walk on your own...but the PT team already helped with that, huh?”

Paul nodded before looking up at Ethan and Hannah, “I’ll see you guys around, right?” 

Ethan smiled and nodded, “Buddy, after being in the Black and White with ya for so long, there ain’t no way you’re gettin’ rid of me.”

Paul smiled, “Good.”

With that, Hannah gave the two of them a small wave as she turned around and led Ethan out of the room. 

As he and Hannah made their way down the hallway, headed back to Hidgens’ lab he looked at her. She had a small smile on her face, but her eyes were otherwise blank.

“What’s shakin’, Banana?” He asked, considering briefly nudging her, but remembering that physical contact wasn’t necessarily something she liked when she was in a daze like this, “You okay?”

She looked up at him, “Somethings coming.”

He didn’t like the sound of that, “Well...yeah…”

“Masks,” she murmured, “Not Safe.”

He stopped and knelt down in front of her, “Banana, well...you said we had a chance...right?” 

She nodded, “One chance.”

He didn’t like the way that sounded either. With what he’d seen in the Black and White, he wasn’t entirely sure that any chance they’d had ever worked out. After seeing her and Lex die time after time, he’d grown dependent on the resets...but then, of course, the likelihood that he’d remember the resets he’d witnessed after another one took place wasn’t great. He also knew that the coming apocalypse was going to happen, whether they liked it or not, but if Hannah had been right about another person cheating the game that had been made out of their lives…

“Banana,” He started carefully, “Do you trust me?” 

She paused for a moment before nodding, “Uh-huh.”

“Do you trust your sister?” 

She nodded again.

“Do you believe that in spite of whatever...whatever shit happens,” he internally berated himself for cursing in front of her, Lex had tried to keep that to a minimum, “...that we’ll do what we can to protect you...and we’ll stay together through thick ‘n thin?”

She paused for a moment, looking down. For a second, Ethan worried that she didn’t think so, but she looked up, she had an earnest look in her eyes, “Yes.”

He sighed in relief, “Good...so, you know whatever happens...we’re gonna fight this shit?” 

Her eyes went calculating, almost like she was considering the weight of his words. Almost as if she was unsure of what she should say. 

“Try,” she settled on, “Fight this shit.”

“Hannah!” He exclaimed, with a dramatic gasp before laughing and shaking his head, “Hey, I won’t tell your sister if you don’t.” 

She smiled and nodded vehemently.

“But I’m serious,” he said, setting a hand gently on her shoulder, “Whatever happens, I will do everything I can to keep you and your sister safe, okay? And not only that, my friends Paul and Johnny will too. And even their friends! Okay?”

She looked sad, “Webby’s not my friend anymore.”

What?

“Wh-what do you mean, Banana?” He asked. Since he’d known Hannah, Webby had been her only friend outside of Lex. Then again, there was the fact that she was a shady eldritch spider being from the Black and White that liked to play morally grey every time she played a role in their successes. Still, it had been Webby to help them get back to the real world, right? She’d given them enough hints and enough help to give them enough successes...so they could trust her, right? 

Hannah looked even sadder, “Not talking to me. Can’t hear her.”

Oh. Ethan understood. 

Without Webby giving Hannah hints and suggestions, Hannah could see into the Black and White by herself. She had to navigate the darkness of the Black and White without any understanding of how it functioned. While he was sure Hannah understood _what_ she was sensing, there was no way for Hannah to navigate it completely in understanding _how_ or _why._ What she had to rely on was her own prophecies and what she saw...without Webby’s help, she could only understand it so much. 

Actually, now that he thought of it, Hannah probably understood it, but vocalizing it was difficult...and anybody who cared to listen couldn’t understand it. 

Part of him was angry on Hannah’s behalf.

She was smarter than most of the people he knew and yet somehow they always wrote her off as though she was crazy. He’d be lying if he claimed he’d not ever thought of her as crazy, a fact that he was ashamed of. It wasn’t until he’d known her for a few months that he’d realized that the girl’s sayings bore a lot more weight than he could understand. Just because Hannah communicated differently than other people and was only eleven years old, she’d been called horrible things and isolated from others. In reality, if the rest of the world had been smart enough, they would be able to understand that she could see and hear more than most. She could see and hear things that could save their lives. She’d already saved his, Paul’s and Johnny’s lives...so that was enough to give her validation of a hero in his eyes. 

He looked at her, “Fuck Webby.” 

Her eyes widened as if he’d said something blasphemous. 

“I mean it, Banana,” He started, keeping his tone as serious as possible, “You don’t need Webby to know what’s going to happen...she doesn’t control you.”

She considered this, “What if I can’t see?” 

“You will,” he assured her, “You’re stronger than her...you know how I know?” 

“How?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. 

“Well…” he started, “Webby doesn’t know what my favorite ice cream flavor is...and you did without me tellin’ you.”

God, he hoped that was encouraging enough. He didn’t necessarily want to put the pressure of predicting the apocalypse on her shoulders. Instead, he went for something more light-hearted. Luckily, her eyes brightened.

“Rocky Road!” she cheered, a smile that melted his heart crossed her face. 

“See?” he said, trying to keep his voice as happy as possible, “You already know more than Webby does, and you don’t need her help.” 

She looked down, “Seer.”

He nodded, “That’s right. You are a powerhouse, Banana, and if Webby doesn’t talk to you, that’s her fuckin’ problem. I like talkin’ to you, so does Lexi, and my friend Paul...and I’m pretty sure Emma does too.”

She smiled, bigger than before and he smiled back. 

“You have better friends here than you do with the Black and White,” he said, “And we’re not gonna let anything happen to you or your sister.”

“Promise?” her eyes were wide as she looked up at him. 

God, he hoped this was a promise he could keep. 

“Cross my heart,” he said, maintaining a soft smile, “Hope to-” 

He stopped. The last time he’d said that he’d been killed by a feral lawyer and angry asshole who looked like the president. That promise hadn’t been kept and they died all the same. 

He realized then, that it didn’t matter whether or not he died in this reset. He would do whatever it took to keep them safe, whether he ended up killed or not. He knew he would give his life for his girls if he had to. 

“I promise, Banana.” 

\---

“Okay,” Emma said, letting go of his arm as she unlocked the door to the apartment, “Here we are.”

She gently pushed open the door to the apartment and helped him inside. Since getting discharged, Emma had supported him in walking, since his legs were still a little weak. Not that he cared. He could get away with being a little bit clingy for the time being. 

“My phone has been blowing up since the memories were restored,” she said with a small laugh, helping him into the small front room, “Bill remembered my number and kept sending me confused texts about where you were and what had happened. He really missed you.”

“What’d you tell him?” He asked, suddenly considering that the memories of him hadn’t just been restored to Emma and the people at PEIP.

She shrugged, “I couldn’t really send anything to him, given that PEIP monitors the texts, but I think they’re gonna let us go see your friends and let them know you’re back.”

God, he missed Bill. He missed the rants about his ex-wife and his crush on that redhead from the top floor with the Jersey accent. He missed seeing new pictures of Alice, who was probably still in high school in Clivesdale at this point in time. He missed their fucked-up printer network. 

He missed his shitty job at CCRP that he hated. He even missed _Ted,_ which was a level he never thought he’d sink to. 

Since returning, John had offered him a temporary job in the IT department as an analyst. Since he was good with numbers and spreadsheets, he figured it was better to find a job while he would be detained at PEIP. Better yet, the job he was offered had scheduling similar to what he’d already been doing at CCRP, and it intersected with Emma’s on several occasions throughout the day. They would even work on the same floors, since the computer lab and bio labs were there, just on opposing sides of the building. He’d been happy about that. Close to his routine from his past life, and close to Emma, both were things that he would need to adjust to his new normal. 

Still, if people from his past life remembered him, then he probably had a job at CCRP still…which was kind of weird to him. John had told him they’d sent a waiver to CCRP letting them know part of the situation regarding Paul’s whereabouts, but he knew it would be hard to explain when he saw them again...if he saw them again. 

The apartment looked as though it had barely been lived in. Which made sense since Emma had been in and out of the infirmary and working for most of the time since she’d been hired to work in Xanders...and now Hidgens’ labs. The furniture was bland, consisting of a small table and chairs, a small kitchen area conjoined to a small living room. There were a few more doors off to the side, which Paul assumed led to the bedroom and bathroom. He didn’t really know. 

When he’d woken up, John had offered him an apartment of his own, but Emma had quickly negated it. John hadn’t seemed surprised and instead, gave him his key to the apartment. 

He’d been hoping that he’d get to stay with her. Since the memories of their previous lives together had been restored to Emma, she’d wanted him to stay with her. He couldn’t bring himself to complain. He refused to allow himself to become extremely clingy, as he knew Emma wouldn’t like that, but he couldn’t deny that the thought of being away from her was slightly sickening. Now that she could see him and talk to him, he’d felt like he was really _with_ her, not just watching from the outside. He got the feeling, however, that she didn’t want to leave him either. 

She put his small duffle, which was filled with a few belongings that PEIP had given him to get by until they could find clothes and stuff that better suited him, on the couch, and just stared at him, a small smile on her face. 

“What?” he laughed, smiling back at her. 

She ran a hand through her hair, which was down for once, and sighed, “I...I just can’t believe you’re here...just a month ago, I didn’t even know your name and now...you’re back.” 

She looked him up and down, her voice growing strained and choked, “I...I didn’t think we’d ever get this again...just _being_ with one another.”

He stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. In spite of not liking physical contact all that much, he’d never grow tired of hugging her now. He’d figured that being stuck in the Black and White, and subsequently, the Blue, had left him a little touch-starved. 

She sighed and melted into his embrace, nestling her head under his chin as he enveloped her. God, he’d forgotten how natural it felt to have her standing under his tall stature, cuddled perfectly under his chin. 

Despite being in the Black and White, and being able to witness things as they’d happened to her, he’d never been able to touch her, hold her, kiss her, be with her. It was almost like he was surrounded by this barrier. He could see her, but she couldn’t see him. But now that he was back, she had been able to see him and interact with him. She’d made herself very clear when she claimed she wasn’t going to leave his side if she didn’t have to. She’d visited him in the infirmary every chance she got. Whether it was on breaks, after work, and she’d even spend the night in the infirmary, using a cot Becky had brought for her. She didn’t want to lose him as much as he didn't want to lose her. 

She sniffled into his shirt, her hands pulling him closer, “It's like...I’m afraid that if I look away for...for even a second...you’ll be gone.”

He closed his eyes and tightened his grip gently, “Em, _sweetheart..._ ”

He hadn’t realized that this had been hurting her this much. He’d known she was afraid of losing him again, after the near cyclical occasions in which one of them would be faced with a near-death experience and be out of the reach of the other, but this? She’d never been so _open_ about her fears and her doubts, but now the two of them were truly alone, and they had one another.

He didn’t want to leave her. He’d done it before and he never wanted to do it again. 

“Em, I’m here now,” he whispered, tilting her chin up so he could look into her tearful eyes, “I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

She nodded, “I know...it’s just...I missed you.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair and tried to absorb the moment as much as he could. Taking in the texture of her hair, the scent of it, the way it softly brushed against his chin, “I missed you too.”

She sighed and broke away, looking back up at him, wiping her eyes, “If you tell anyone I’ve been crying as much as I have been, your ass is dead, Matthews.” 

“Believe me, I know,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

After a moment of merely staring at one another, as if both of them were trying to desperately absorb every single detail. Not wanting to lose it for the world.

“What do you want to do?” she asked, “I’ve got some food from the commissary because believe me, Paul, you’ll prefer that over what is offered in the cafeteria, any day.” 

She started to walk towards the kitchen but he shook his head, “No, no thanks...I think I’m good.”

She nodded, “Wanna just go to bed?” 

Had she just read his mind? It was around six in the afternoon, but Emma had taken off of work that day and both of them were extremely exhausted physically, and emotionally, from the turmoil of the past few weeks. 

He nodded. 

Cuddling up in bed with her was probably the most appealing option to him right now.

They’d agreed beforehand to ease back into their relationship gently, and the fact that he still had healing scars on his back from when he’d...well, _died,_ would prevent them from doing anything further...as much as they both wanted to do anything further since he’d woken up.

Still, she gestured to a door off to the side and opened it to reveal a small bedroom. The bed was probably a queen, with white sheets and covers that looked barely slept in, but it was still a bed all the same. 

Of course, it wasn’t _their_ bed from the house _they_ shared, and there wasn’t a cat that would curl up in between the two of them or on top of his face (though they’d agreed that when the proper date came in 2020, they would find that same adoption event and adopt Socks, again), but it was still a bed- A really comfy looking bed- and it was still Emma. 

He felt slightly awkward as she approached the bed, watching as Emma crawled into the bed, kicking off her shoes and socks (“ _Sleeping with socks is nonsense, Paul, I don’t know how you do it.”),_ laying claim to the same side of the bed that she always slept on. 

After a moment, she looked up at him and rolled her eyes, “You gonna claim your side or what, Matthews?” 

“I-um…” he stammered, unsure of how to put his awkwardness into words. 

She rolled her eyes again and reached out, extending herself almost completely off the bed, to pull him in. 

He kicked off his shoes as he collapsed almost on top of Emma into the bed, crawling over to his usual side and crawling under to cool, crisp, soft sheets. As he did so, Emma shifted and pulled herself close to him, wrapping her arms around him, head nestled under his chin. 

Reflexively, he enveloped her in his embrace, entangling their limbs as they took their usual sleeping position. Part of him smiled at the memory of their past life in their house as she unconsciously rubbed her head against his collarbone, as she always did when getting comfy. 

He chuckled under his breath and she looked up at him, a weird expression on her face, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head gently, “Just...you.”

“Me?” 

“Yep.”

She snorted and nestled closer, “Well...you’re not getting rid of me now.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” he whispered, rubbing his hand gently up and down her spine as he adjusted to the comfort of the bed. 

He couldn’t believe he was there. With her. 

He didn’t think he would ever get this with her again. And yet, here he was. He didn’t want to let go of that moment. If he already wasn’t exhausted, he would have cried. 

“I can feel you thinking,” she muttered after a while, muffled into his shirt, “What’s up, nerd?” 

“I just...I can’t believe I’m here...with you, it’s like a dream…” he breathed. It wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to just be laying there, holding her. After kinda-dying and winding up in the Black and White, he only had memories to mimic what he’d once had...but now, here he was, living it. He could have cried with joy at how wonderful it felt. 

“Well...I’m here,” she muttered, “So...not a dream.”

“Well, yeah,” he snorted, “It would be really weird if it was.”

She nodded and moved closer with a sigh, her small arms engulfing him, “I get it, though…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, “I didn’t think we’d ever get this again after I found out you were actually real…”

“And I wasn’t just in your dreams?” he finished. She nodded and he smirked, “Does that make me the man of your dreams?” 

She groaned and nestled her head almost painfully into his collar, “I hate you.”

“Hey, you can’t return me to the Black and White, you didn’t get a receipt,” he joked. It was a bad joke, he knew, but judging from the way she went silent, he knew that he cut a little deep with it. 

“Don’t say that…” she muttered, her voice suddenly sounding very small. 

He sighed, “Sorry…”

“No...It’s fine,” her voice was choked, “I just...don't want to think about that…”

She didn’t look at him, but he could feel the way she was squeezing her eyes shut against his shoulder. She shook slightly and he knew suddenly that she was crying. 

He freed one of his hands to tilt her chin up, resting his forehead against hers, “Em, look at me…”

She opened her tear-filled eyes and met his. He felt guilt rise in his chest like a tidal wave. 

“I’m right here with you,” He whispered, making sure she knew it was true, “I’m not going anywhere...I promise.”

She nodded slightly but closed her eyes again, letting some tears fall, “I...I know...it’s just…”

“It’s just what, Em?” he prompted gently, stroking her cheek with his thumb, “You can tell me, sweetheart.” 

She sighed and looked up, “W-when I remembered you...when I remembered everything...I had all of the good memories...and they were amazing...but I also had the bad ones...and I remembered how it felt t-to…” she let out a small sob before burrowing herself further into his chest. He stroked gently over her hair, the way she liked when he could barely hear her next few words, shaky and warbled, “I r-remembered h-how it felt to lose...you.”

She breathed in and exhaled deeply with a dry chuckle as she furiously wiped at her eyes, trying hard to maintain her composure, “Sorry, I-I’ve been crying a lot more than normal...huh…”

“Em…” he sighed, cupping her jaw and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, “You can cry if you need to…”

She shook her head, “No...I’m...I’m fine…”

“I don’t believe that,” he whispered, “You know...you can always talk to me...always, baby.” 

She smiled, “It-It doesn’t matter…I have you back now...you’re back and I’m not gonna let you go...not again.”

His mind flashed back to the moments just before the reset began. The first time he’d peered into the present from the Black and White. It had been moments before he’d watched the shadows engulf her...swallowing her whole. Then he remembered the time weeks before...when she flatlined and wasn’t revived until after she was declared dead. 

He remembered the grief and pain that had swallowed him whole as he remembered feeling helpless in that situation. He couldn’t do anything but plead with her to come back. He could do nothing but watch as her life was taken from her. 

Of course, she was alive and well now, but the pain still lingered.

“I...I lost you too, Em,” he murmured.

She opened her eyes, a puzzled look crossing her expression. 

“Before the reset began, I had to watch you die…” he explained, trying hard to keep the choked sobs that were making their way up to his throat as guilt flooded his veins, “And then you went comatose…”

“Paul…” she whispered, a slight gasp on her lips. 

“I felt responsible…” he went on, “You were remembering me and you were tearing yourself apart to do it…”

“That’s not-” she started to say, but he cut her off, his tone gentle. 

“And then you kept flatlining…” he muttered, his voice breaking slightly, “And all I could do was watch. I had to watch you die over and over again...but Becky kept getting you back...until she didn’t.” 

Her eyes widened and she ran a hand through his hair as she rested her forehead against his own. 

“I watched as you...you _died,_ ” he whispered, his voice shaking, a tear falling from his eyes, “And I could do nothing...I could only cry and beg you to come back...I just sat there and _cried..._ but you came back.”

“ _Paul_ …” she gasped, about to speak, but he kept going.

“What I’m trying to say, Emma…” he started, opening his eyes to look at her, “You can’t blame yourself for something that was out of your control...okay?”

She didn’t answer and he looked down at her, “Hey…”

She looked up, her eyes filled with tears as they met his hesitantly.

As he gazed at her, he drank in every detail of her face.

In spite of how sad she very clearly was, she was still so beautiful. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “You know that, right?”

She let out a small laugh that sounded like it could have led to sobbing if she was completely careful, “I love you too...no matter what reset or lifetime we’re stuck in.”

He smiled at her as the perfect words came to him.

“I’m yours, Em, _forever and always_.”

She seemed taken aback for a moment, shock blooming in her eyes. Panic shot through his veins.

“Sorry, was that- I’m um-I’m sorry…”

She cut him off by slamming her lips into his, enveloping him in a warm, sweet kiss. It was perfect. It reminded him of everything they had before all the shit involving the Black and White, and everything he hoped they would go on to have. She knit her hands into his hair, tangling her fingers in it and deepening the kiss with a sigh. It reminded him of their first kiss outside her apartment, just before their first time. He’d been humbly and awkward while she’d just gone for it.

God, he loved her.

She broke away from the kiss with a satisfied sigh and accompanying smile that melted his heart. Her eyes locked onto his as she cupped his face.

“Forever and always,” She echoed with a small disbelieving laugh.

He laughed with her and cupped her face as he kissed her again.

What had he ever done to deserve her?

He’d lived a substandard average joe life, and yet here he was sharing a bed with a woman who might as well have been a goddess.

And she _loved_ him.

The thought, if he wasn’t living in it right now, would have been laughable to him.

He smiled at the notion. 

She _loved_ him. 

As he held her closer, a few tears slipped free from his eyes. 

God, he _really_ loved her. 

She snuggled closer into his chest, her weight feeling perfectly natural in his arms. He’d missed it so much he’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to hold her. 

He shifted and pulled her so that she was laying on top of him, his arms holding her in place like he always used to hold her. Her weight on top of him always comforted him and made him feel like she was safe and at home.

 _She_ made him feel safe.

She was his home. 

Her head nestled into his collarbone. She pressed a light kiss to it with a small sigh as he ran his hand gently up and down her spine, settling into their usual comfort. 

Within moments, he was asleep with a smile on his face. 

\---

Emma opened her eyes and was met with the best sight she could imagine. 

At some point during the night, she had slipped from the place she’d fallen asleep on top of Paul and had nestled into his side comfortably. 

As she blinked the sleep away from her eyes, the adorable sleeping form of Paul’s face came into her vision and she smiled warmly. 

She’d forgotten how cute he looked while he slept...normally, not while covered by medical tubes and wires or under the influence of a sedative. His eyes were closed gently, with his eyebrows drawn together in a state of permanent confusion, it seemed. His full lips were pursed slightly and he softly snored. His nose was crinkled up slightly, as though he was smelling something foul, but she found it adorable. His hair fell slightly messily in his face, and judging from the way he was nestled into the pillow, he would have a major cowlick in the morning. 

She lifted one of her hands gently to his face, gently rubbing it with her thumb, loving the feeling of his skin under her hands. She smiled to herself as he nuzzled gently into her touch, remaining asleep. He was so deeply asleep there was no way her touch would wake him. Her smile grew as she realized just what she was looking at. 

He was home. 

She couldn’t believe that she was there, in his arms again. He’d been right when he said it was like a dream. 

Over the course of the last few months, she would have never thought she’d get this again. The thought excited her and made her feel like she could melt. 

She considered checking her bedside clock to see what time it was, but she didn’t want to take her eyes off of him. She’d not been lying when she’d said that she was afraid he’d disappear if she looked away...she’d only had him back for four days and she’d worked very hard not to be filled with anxiety every time she looked away. The hours she’d spend working in the lab and not visiting him in the infirmary had been spent working while looking at the clock waiting for her break. On top of that, the stress of low-key spying on Hidgens to make sure he didn’t go crazy and murder everyone or show signs of Black and White energy had been causing her more anxiety than she hoped. While he’d not exactly been preaching at the ‘murder Paul Matthews’ pulpit, she couldn’t deny that she was still uneasy around him, especially when the subject of conversation. 

She and Lex had been debriefing John and Xander about Hidgens’ conduct over the course of the past few days. While Paul hadn’t necessarily been openly uneasy about it, he had asked her several times to be careful. 

She thought about what he’d said...about watching while she’d died...twice apparently. She knew the risks associated with spying on a man as dangerous as Hidgens, but she was also determined not to let him experience that grief again. They’d both lost each other several times in the past lifetimes and this one, but the fact that he’d been there in some ways to watch it happen...she couldn’t imagine the helplessness. 

Actually, she could imagine it...she’d felt that helplessness when he’d been dragged into the Black and White, to begin with. That grief had overtaken her and paralyzed her until the shadows had consumed her. 

Then she’d had to watch as the singing had consumed him and then he’d been dragged away and into isolation for over two weeks with no guarantee that she would ever see him again. 

She flinched at the memory. It was very hard to imagine leaving him ever again. She knew she’d have to let him out of her sight eventually, especially when he started to work in the information department, but that separation was something she would have to get used to. She would have to remember that he was just on the other side of the building and not in another dimension.

Sometimes, while he’d still been in the infirmary, she’d have to remember that he was okay. That he was awake and alive and Becky would let her know if anything had happened. All she would have to do was wait until her break came, or until her shift ended, and then she could be with him and be reassured that he was fine. It took every fiber of her being not to send a message to Becky and ask how he was doing. She was _not_ going to become clingy. All she needed was to try and overcome the separation anxiety that had come with the situation. 

It would be hard, she knew, but she would have to get used to the idea that she couldn’t keep her eyes on him at all times. After all, he was a grown man, he could handle himself well enough. He didn’t need her being a helicopter partner one-hundred percent of the time. 

She decided not to think of the possibility of losing him again and instead thought about what he’d said before they’d fallen asleep. 

_Forever and always._

That was a big promise for him to make. 

Normally, words like that would have intimidated her...made her feel like she was being roped into a promise she would have to break...but somehow...she knew this wasn’t a promise she would be breaking. 

She loved him with all of her heart. 

Forever and always was a promise that had been lingering at the back of her mind every time she looked at him. 

Forever and always was in every memory she shared with him. 

Forever and always was in every laugh they'd shared in the mundanity of everyday life.

Forever and always was in every ounce of forgiveness and patience he’d granted her. 

Forever and always was in every kiss and embrace that made her feel like she was home. 

He was her home. 

In spite of every commitment issue she’d experienced when they’d started dating, he’d been patient with her and loved her all the same.

In spite of her flaws, he’d taken her as she was and accepted her for who she was.

It was funny...they’d not started dating officially until around late December of 2018 in the previous reset. Right now it was August of 2018 and they had far surpassed their initial commitment to one another...in several more ways than one. 

She smiled to herself. 

He loved her and wanted her in his life.

He was willing to love her...forever and always. 

She ran her hand through his hair again, smiling at _her_ dork. 

The fucking nerd that made his way into her broken and crumpled heart and made her feel like she was worth so much more than she valued herself at. He’d literally completed her broken soul...and he’d accepted her for every bruise and scar. No mistake she made was unforgivable in his eyes. She was pretty sure she could commit a murder and he’d arrive with a shovel to bury the body. 

She stifled a small chuckle as she looked at him, bliss building and building in her veins. Her stomach was uncharacteristically filled with butterflies every time she looked at him. 

God, she must really love this fucking nerd. 

She snuggled closer into him and nestled her head into his collarbone, smiling to herself again as he unconsciously wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer like she was a teddy bear of sorts and sighing contently. She hugged him tighter and closed her eyes, ready to fall into a blissful rest once more. 

Forever and always...that sounded more than okay to her. 

\---

He was being watched.

He knew. 

He was a fool if he didn’t see it. 

He knew that Lex and Emma were keeping their eyes on him. 

They had to be. 

After he’d lost his nerve and threatened to kill Paul almost constantly, they would be foolish if they weren’t monitoring his movement. 

He would have to make his move soon, he knew. If he didn’t he’d be stuck waiting for his own grave to come to him. 

He smiled to himself. 

He remembered one of his favorite quotes...

“ _I_ _lie without a mask...therefore I am an honest man…”_

A near paradox...but it might as well have been his creed. 

Soon he would make his move. 

Soon he would win. 

And Henry Hidgens prepared to put on his best possible performance. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all can have some Ethan and Hannah brother/sister fluff as a treat.  
> Also...Paulkins cuddles are all that matters (also, can you tell how touch-starved I am?!?!?!)  
> Gee, I sure hope whatever Hidgens is planning doesn't make anything happen to them...  
> It would be a shame if something bad happened to these characters...
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos, in hopes that I might let bad things not happen to them *evil laughter*  
> (In reality, your comments and kudos mean a lot, but I love y'all all the same regardless!!)
> 
> I hope you guys are voting when you can and wearing masks!!!  
> Have a good day and thank you so much for reading!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	33. You've got Everybody Fooled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang has a secret meeting...and ends up coming to a much more harrowing conclusion.  
> (Featuring trauma, alcohol, and banter involving Juice Boxes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name for this chapter comes from the song "Everybody's Fool" by Evanescence.
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Alcohol consumption (but it's casual and nobody gets drunk...with the exception of everyone's favorite lightweight getting a little bit tipsy)

Reset No. 6

Date: August 23rd, 2018

Being Unknown

John shifted impatiently in his seat as Xander sighed. 

“They’ll be here, John,” he reassured his husband. 

“I know…” John sighed, “It’s just sometimes hard to remain patient, especially when every second we waste the apocalypse could approach quicker.”

Xander looked sympathetic, “I know, love, but we’ve been through worse...we can’t afford to lose our nerve now.”

He was right, John knew. He always was. 

What was the matter with him? He never was this antsy or impatient when it came to situations like this ever. 

He’d not been proud of the fact that they were literally meeting in his and Xander's apartment to escape the prying eyes of other unsavory individuals. If anyone wanted to find that what they were doing, they could suck his ass because he was a general.

The major concern was Hidgens. The old man seemed to see a lot more than he let on. It was tough to avoid his chilling eyes whenever you went anywhere near him. John, personally, wasn’t afraid of the old man, but he knew that the old man would be wary of any meetings held in traditional meeting settings. Because of that, they had to meet covertly in the apartment, under the guise of a game night (a ruse which had been Emma’s idea), in order to discuss their private investigation of the Black and White energies and whatever had potentially escaped the Black and White when they’d sealed up the bleed.

It wasn’t an easy pill to swallow, knowing that something had escaped the Black and White on his watch. It was even harder to know that he’d fallen for the trick in which Paul’s temporary infection was a distraction and had immediately assumed that he’d been the source of the energy. If he’d been knowledgeable enough and kept his wits about him, he would have instantly known that Paul was going to beat the infection, and they would have been much farther ahead on the trail of whatever had actually posed a threat. He, Xander, June, and Tom had spent hours poring over the data Emma and Xander had gathered in the labs, analyzing the energy readings, trying to make sense of what samples of blood that had been gathered from Paul earlier on...and yet they felt like they were all still behind.

Emma had been running countless PCRs on the blood samples, trying to identify any component that _may_ have been even remotely similar to an earth virus, trying to identify whether or not the entities of the Black and White had any relatively earth-like qualities...still, the only thing she’d been able to find that was human, were the normal components of Paul’s blood. She’d also taken to studying some of the spores samples that had been collected from his larynx when he was first admitted, and yet she’d identified only that the structure was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Because in the past reset, she would have finished her biology and botany degree within a few months of the Shadow Invasion, Xander had made her a formal scientist at PEIP, and it was true, she worked harder and more efficiently than a whole lot of other scientists that had been at PEIP since its foundation. Xander had often told John that he didn’t know whether or not the woman was determined to prevent the coming apocalypse or just to kick the ass of whatever had separated her from Paul for so long. Either reason was feasible, and honestly, John would have supported either. 

Speaking of Paul, the man had settled nicely into a new routine in the PEIP Intelligence and IT department quite well. Since June oversaw a great deal of what went on in IIT, she’d been filling John in on the man’s progress. Apparently, like Emma, he was determined to figure out as much as he possibly could about the present situation. 

John was happy that the two of them had been able to be reunited. Both of them reunited alive and healthy. Both June and Xander had told him that they could tell Paul and Emma were working through some form of separation anxiety, judging from the way that they’d both glance at the clock anxiously, or ask a coworker how much longer until they had a break.

John understood this.

He’d been fortunate enough to work in command, where Xander spent most days since Hidgens and Emma were both working in the labs for the most part. Still, the idea of being severed from Xander for too long would have been too much for him to handle. He would’ve handled it, yes, but not very well in his own estimate. Of course, if there was anything that the two couples had in common, their desire to not be separated again was only outweighed by their resolve to _ensure_ that the world never got the chance to try again. Therefore, everyone worked like they were automatons, working hard to ensure that the apocalypse could at the very least be delayed. 

A knock on the door sounded, snapping John out of his reverie. 

“Finally,” he muttered, making Xander smile as he went to the door. 

“Hey Tom,” Xander greeted, allowing the burlier man in, a small boy trailing behind him, “And Tim too!?!”

“Yeah...sorry, Xan,” Tom said apologetically, “I didn’t want to leave him alone at our apartment and Hannah was gonna be here, so I figured they could hang out in your game room or something?” 

“Oh, of course!” John chimed in, suddenly finding a reason for _someone_ to use the PlayStation that Xander loved but never used due to long working hours, “We’ve got a PS4, but it still works really well and tons of games he and Hannah could use. Please use them.”

Tim smiled, “Thanks, Mackie.”

John smiled at the nickname from the past resets, back when he and Xander had stayed in touch with the Houston family long after Tom left PEIP and married Jane, “Did you get to see your uncle Paul, Tim?”

The boy nodded excitedly, “He said his back still needed some healing, but he was very happy to be awake and with Aunt Emma again! Then we played BS and I won!!”

John smiled, “I’m glad to hear it, buddy.”

In past resets, he’d known Tim to be a wonderful kid. John never wanted kids very much, but he did know that he loved Tim Houston. In some ways, he reminded him of a much more sharp but small version of Tom when he’d first met him. While Tom was burly and kind of dense at twenty, Tim was sharp and quick-witted at eleven...When in the Black and White, Paul had attributed those traits to Jane’s side of the family. 

“Will Uncle Paul and Aunt Emma be here tonight?” the boy asked, his eyes wide. 

John nodded, “And Hannah will be here too if you want to show her how to play Minecraft or another game…”

Tim nodded, seemingly deep in thought, “I think I’ll show her Minecraft, she might not like all the violent ones with all the noises.”

“I think that’s very considerate of you, Buddy,” Tom said, running a hand through his son's messy hair. 

“I’ll show you how to set it up,” Xander said, gesturing in the direction of the small media room (that had once been an office that neither Xander and John had never used for its intended purpose so instead, they’d turned it into a makeshift media room), “We’ve not used it in a while, so it's still in good condition!”

“Cool!” Tim exclaimed excitedly before following Xander out of the room.

Tom turned to John, a grave expression on his face, “Somethings coming, John.”

“I know,” John sighed, “Though, I haven’t the slightest idea what it is r how we can fuckin’ prepare for it.”

Tom took a seat on the couch, “When you, Paul, and Ethan were in the Black and White, you never heard of any specific beings that were on their way to...I don’t know...wipe us all out?” 

John let out a humorless chuckle, “No...they operate in turns, remember? The names aren’t revealed until their turn...I think Webby is the only exception…” to tell anyone the truth, he didn’t understand the rules of the game as much as he should have. Honestly, he was pretty sure the entities within the Black and White weren’t even sure what the rules were. 

Maybe if entities and people would just abide by the laws of the universe, John could get a fucking vacation or something. 

He sighed and stood, prepared to set up the fancy drink glasses and the assortment of different kinds of alcohol they had in the apartment...it would be a long night, “Besides, in addition to the coming apocalypse, we’ve got to also consider that it might be a being we’ve already encountered.”

Tom sighed, “But we can eliminate the singing blue bitch...right? Apathy?” 

“Apatha,” John corrected, “And yeah, I guess we can...seeing as how her attempt to infect Paul failed...not that we realized it until the last possible moment…”

“Paul’s bouncing back though,” Tom said, standing and pouring himself a small glass of whiskey, “He’s always great with Tim, but besides the remaining bruises from whatever the fuck Hidgens did to him with the experimentation and all that shit...you wouldn’t know what happened.”

John nodded, “He’s more resilient than people would guess,” he smiled to himself, “He and Emma are an even match.”

Tom sighed, “I think you’re a little obsessed with their relationship, huh?”

“Hey,” John reasoned, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, “You watch Paul give her heart eyes from the Black and White in several resets, and then you can judge me.”

Tom chuckled, “It's a bit of a surprise to me that she picked him...I mean, she’s all biting and spitfire and he’s.. _.not_.”

“Jane was all common sense,” John pointed out, “And you’re dumber than a ton of bricks and yet she still married you.”

Tom didn’t even try to act offended, “Good point.”

John sighed, “And then Ethan, Hannah, and Lex are all still kids and they’ve been in deep with this since the second reset we could see.”

Tom shook his head, “You said Ethan was fuckin’ murdered?” 

“Yep,” John said with a nod, “Over a doll.”

“Jesus,” Tom took a sip of his drink, “How psychotic do people need to…”

“These are powerful entities, Tom,” John sighed, not wanting to go into a further explanation about the technicalities involved with the cult-following that resulted in his and Ethan’s deaths, “To put it simply...they’re not to be fucked with.”

Xander walked out from the media room and his face fell into a mock-frown, “You broke out the good alcohol?” 

John nodded, “It’s gonna be a long night, Xander.”

Xander groaned in mock annoyance and settled for fixing himself a vodka martini. He was always scientific about the way he assembled his drink, providing John with a wonderful source of entertainment with the adorable way he furrowed his brow. One would have mistaken the glass or drink mixer for a beaker or graduated cylinder.

A knock sounded at the door. 

“John, can you get that?” Xander asked as he shook up his cocktail in a proper James-Bond fashion. 

“Sure thing, love,” John set his glass down and went to the door, wondering which of their many guests would be arriving for the evening. 

He opened the door to find Becky standing there, having changed out of her scrubs and into a yellow sundress. 

“Becky, nice to see you!” He greeted, taking note of the bottle of white wine in her hand, “It seemed we had the same idea when we knew tonight would be a long evening.”

Becky nodded, “Yep...I’ve had this in the apartment for emergencies or really long days...so I’m guessing these meetings qualify.” 

John took the bottle from her and gestured to the house, inviting her inside, “Tom and Tim are already here, we’re just waiting on Schaeffer, Paul, Emma, Ethan, Lex, and Hannah...Kamaria and Phillipa have a date night tonight so they couldn’t make it.”

“Yeah, Kam told me earlier,” Becky said with a nod, “It’s their fifth anniversary...so Kam’s taking her to that nice restaurant down First Street.”

“Nice,” John said with a nod, as he allowed Becky in and shut the door behind her, “I hear that Phillipa and Kam have been having a hard time with Hidgens being in the labs and infirmary all the time nowadays, so it’ll be nice for them to get out and do stuff.”

As Becky and John came to the living area, John noted that Tom visibly straightened and went rigid, “H-Hi, Becky…” he stammered. 

“Hi, Tom,” she managed to spit out, her face going bright pink.

Xander and John shared a look. Among both of them talking about Paul and Emma’s relationship and how fantastic it was that they’d been reunited once more, Tom and Becky’s state of awkwardness was also a heavy topic of conversation. 

When Xander and June had recruited Becky and placed her in the medical department, they’d not known that Rebecca “Becky” Barnes was, in fact, the same Becky Barnes that Tom had often gushed over in basic training. When Xander had finally realized that they were one and the same, John had laughed over the hilarity of it. Of course, it made _perfect_ sense that there was more than one Becky Barnes that embodied literal sunshine and “made your heart sing like it never had before” (Tom’s exact words). The fact that it was just a major shock factor for Xander and June had been something John was never going to let them live down. He couldn’t blame them, though, half of the time when Tom was too busy gushing about the girlfriend he’d left behind, they’d picked on him for his “simping” (as Ethan would have probably called it). 

Before either Becky or Tom could make the situation any more awkward, a knock sounded at the door. John sighed, as he had just sat down and stood again to go open the door. 

He pulled open the door to reveal a very exhausted-looking Emma and Paul. As expected, the two of them held one another's hands tightly.

“Hey, John!” Paul greeted brightly. Emma groaned tiredly and held up a large thermos in her free hand. 

“Xander mentioned that you have Irish Whiskey, so I’m gonna make some Irish coffees if that's okay,” she murmured, “I think we all could use some alcohol tonight.”

John nodded, “Everyone in here concurs...we have whipped cream and mint for the coffees if you need it...also, Becky brought some nice wine too.”

Emma gave him a tired smile, “I’m assuming this meeting will last a while?” 

John sighed and nodded, “But Tim is here, he’s gonna play with Hannah while we try and figure shit out.”

Emma’s eyes brightened, “Nice! Alcohol _and_ my nephew!”

Paul sighed with a tired smile, “Today was a _very_ long day.”

“So it would seem,” John said with a small chuckle, “We’re just waiting on Lex, Hannah, and Ethan for now.”

They nodded and were led into the living room to join the other guests. As Emma set up to prepare the new addition to the myriad of alcoholic beverages that would be consumed that evening, Tim bounded out to pull her and Paul into a big hug, which the much taller man readily accepted. Had it not been for the overtones of the foreboding apocalypse, John might have thought this was a family get-together. Maybe in another life, they could have had gatherings like this and not have to worry about the reality they knew collapsing. Maybe Paul, Ethan, and he would live without memories of being trapped in a dimension between realities. Maybe Emma would not have to live with the physical trauma of her body tearing itself apart as a means of freeing them. Maybe Lex and Hannah wouldn’t be permanently marked as freaks of nature with their hereditary connection to the Black and White.

As he sat back and watched the scene unfold in front of him, Tim happily chattering away to Paul about the game Xander had shown him and how he was going to show it to Hannah, while Emma watched fondly as she mixed the drinks, it occurred to him that if they actually managed to avoid this apocalypse, what would they be to one another afterward. It was true, the only blood-related family that John and Xander had was Xander’s mother...but they could only see her so often. Still, the people in front of him had become his family in a weird way.

With a start, he realized that June had joined the assembly. 

“When’d you get here?” He asked, not wanting to bother with pleasantries. 

“Nice to see you too,” she said, taking a swig from a beer bottle, “I let myself in like ten minutes ago...also, you’ve got excellent beer choices.” 

“You didn’t bother to bring your own?” He said, raising his eyebrow teasingly.

“Missed the memo, John,” she snorted, taking another drink, “Also, you guys have too much alcohol for one singular apartment.”

“Are you complaining?” 

She shook her head, “Just know that I might raid your bar every once in a while.” 

He sighed and checked his watch again.

Where were Lex, Ethan, and Hannah?

\---

“Come on, guys,” Lex called, shrinking into her jacket, ensuring that she had everything she needed, “We’re gonna be late!” 

“I’m coming!” Ethan called from the living room where he was deciding from a wide array of snacks which one they should bring. 

Hannah emerged from the bedroom, snuggling her arms around herself. 

“Hey, Banana!” she greeted brightly, hoping her sister would be up for one of these meetings, “Do you have a good feeling about tonight?” 

Hannah didn’t look up. Lex felt her heart sink to her feet. Today had been a rough day for Hannah. She was used to the smaller girl going nonverbal occasionally, but today it was like she was a walking shadow, saying nothing, only staring off confusedly. 

“Well…” she said, searching for anything that might cheer her sister up, “Mr. Houston said Tim was going to be there...and you like playing with him, huh?”

The girl looked up, “Confused,” she muttered. The first words she’d said all day. 

“What do you mean, Banana?” 

“Words jumbled,” Hannah muttered, looking back down, “More...not just seven...woven…”

She looked up at Lex, “Too loud.”

Lex didn’t get a chance to respond because Ethan came up behind her with a grocery bag of the selected snacks, “You guys ready?” 

Lex looked at the jumbled notes she kept on Hidgens’ movements, jumbled together easily on loose paper, and sticky notes. As she looked at the multiple papers and scribbles she kept on her observations, she realized she had forgotten something major. She exasperatedly sighed with a small curse, “Damn, I forgot the specs…”

The specs. The energy readings that she’d been keeping hidden in her small desk drawer in the labs. They’d been discretely being taken during her ‘training’ sessions with Hidgens to read any and all Black and White energy anomalies. How had she been so stupid to forget them? 

She groaned and turned to Ethan, “I need to go to the lab to pick up the spec readings, you two can head over there.”

“You want us to come with?” Ethan asked, gently taking Hannah’s hand, which she didn’t object to. 

Lex shook her head, “No...It’ll just take two seconds, I’ll be there in like ten minutes.”

Ethan nodded, “Okay, see you in a bit.”

With that, Lex took off for the labs. It was after-hours, so the only people who would be in the labs would be some stragglers like Rodney or Callie, who had already grown quite accustomed to her presence in the labs in a way that her presence wouldn’t be considered an abnormality. She still didn’t trust a great deal of the people at PEIP, but Hannah and Ethan seemed to trust John and Xander, so that was good enough for her. 

When she’d agreed to spy on Hidgens, she’d done so with the intention of protecting Hannah and Ethan from the Black and White itself. She never wanted them to be wrapped up in its bullshit ever again. Because of this, when Xander had asked her and Emma to keep tabs on Hidgens, she couldn’t say no. The sooner they got to the bottom of whatever had gotten into their world, the sooner she could sleep at night in the knowledge that they were okay. 

As she came to the lab quadrant, she noticed that Callie and Rodney’s stations were powered off. She merely figured that they must have gotten all their work done in a timely fashion, and moved on, not wanting to be alone for much longer than she had to be. 

In some ways, being alone in the labs reminded her of being in the stockroom at ToyZone, where the cobwebs outnumbered her hopes of a brighter future. In some ways, it was chilling to be alone, but part of her also revealed in the silence. Part of her had liked the severance from Frank’s self-important monologuing and attacks of ad-hominem. Here, she found the freedom from Hidgens’ dramatic hyperbole relaxing. 

She used her keycard that Xander had issued her to get into the small section where she and Hidgens primarily worked and almost ran to the small desk where Hidgens would have her read over his aunt’s notes on the Black and White. While she didn’t understand much about what Dr. Lavernor had said, the woman knew a great deal about the Black and White, and the descriptions captured accurately the coldness and difficulty of navigating it. 

A chill ran up her spine at the memory of the Black and White. 

She’d not been able to see anything, but the chill had made her bones feel as brittle and fragile as ice, while also keeping her still. It was a miracle in itself that she’d managed to grab onto Ethan, John, and Paul’s souls.

If she went anywhere near the still-intact portal in the next few years, it would all be way too soon. She never wanted to go back there if she didn’t have to. 

With a small curse, she pulled open the drawer, where she saw the energy readings on the light blue paper, Xander’s sensors transmitting the readings constantly to her machinery. She’d been lucky that Hidgens had never noticed it. 

As she looked at the paper, she grinned when she recognized the jagged peaks and valleys of red ink on the paper, indicating that something wasn’t normal with the energy readings. Perfect. 

She gently pulled the paper from the drawer, careful not to tear it, and added it to the small stack of papers haphazardly, shoving them into her assortment of papers, when something made her spine arch uncomfortably. 

Her brow beaded with sweat as she searched her surroundings, looking for any indication of anything that would suddenly make her blood run cold. 

“Hello?” she called out, flinching slightly at the way her voice echoed throughout the deserted labs. 

Her only answer was the small hum of the AC turning on. 

She sighed. Maybe it was just the fact that she was trying to be stealthy in the lair of one of the most flamboyant potential monsters she’d ever seen. She laughed slightly and made sure she had everything she needed, sealing up the drawer with a small shake of her head. 

She was just paranoid. She was sure. There was no-

“ _Alexandra Foster…”_

She froze, her spine tingling uncomfortably again. Fear gripped her heart suddenly. 

“Hello?” she called out again, hating the way her voice wobbled as she did, “Is anyone here...Callie?” 

The buzz of the AC roared in her ears, drowning out the thump of her heartbeat. 

Like a kid who just turned off the lights in the basement, she tried to run for the lab doors, not wanting to be in the labs any longer. As she went to start her exit she gasped.

Her legs weren’t moving. 

She tried to take a step again. Like her shoes were cemented to the floor, she didn’t budge. 

The chill grew up her spine as she began to hyperventilate, the air conditioner suddenly didn’t sound like an air conditioner anymore. Instead, there was the sound of laughter. Not maniacal, childish laughter. Instead, the kind of laughter you would hear in a movie theatre when an actor said a funny line. Whatever was happening, she didn’t find it funny at all. 

“Hello?!” she yelled out desperately, “Is anyone there!? Please...I’m stuck…” 

She searched the room for anything, but she was alone. Alone and still glued to her spot. 

She threw her papers onto the desk and began to tug at her stiff legs desperately, trying anything and everything to will them to move, but to no avail. 

“ _Alexandra Kendall Foster… Daughter of Pamela and sister to Hannah…”_

“Who’s there?!” she cried out, the sound of her name chilling her to the bone as the sound reverberated throughout her body, making her skeleton tremble and her heart feel like it was about to pop out of her chest, “ _Show yourself!!!”_

The laughter rose in volume, making her stifle a cry of fear as tears rolled down her cheeks. 

“ _Oh...you’re a fighter...you’ll do nicely.”_

Though the laughter rose in a wave of cacophonous noise within her ears, the labs were completely empty and silent. 

And nobody was around to hear Lex Foster scream. 

\---

Paul tapped his hands endlessly against his thigh as he sipped away at the delicious concoction that Emma had whipped up for them. 

Despite being rather tall, he was cursed with being an extreme lightweight, so he was trying to make a conscious effort not to drink so much. He knew that tonight was going to be very long, given the circumstances and he wanted to remain slightly sober for the sake of conversation. Nevermind the fact that his favorite nephew was also here, and he didn’t want the boy to see him drunk. 

Emma was snuggled up next to him on John and Xander's couch, sipping away at the Irish Coffee she’d made for herself, a mustache of whipped cream marking the space underneath her nose. Normally, he would let her know, but something about the way she was smiling in combination with the whipped cream made him smile, feel more at ease in spite of the real topic that they would indeed be discussing. 

He’d been doing well enough when it came to growing into his new routine whilst working at PEIP. There weren’t many people working in the information and intelligence department when it came to the Black and White Case, so it was mainly just himself, Schaeffer, and a few of the other analysts that were there 

They’d been there for about fifteen minutes when Ethan and a very confused looking Hannah walked in. 

“Hey, guys!” Ethan greeted with a haphazard wave of his gloved hand, “Sorry we’re late, we had some issues getting our act together.”

“Where’s Lex?” Tom questioned, smiling slightly at Hannah, who started to look more at ease. 

“She went to go pick up some readings from the lab,” Ethan explained, setting down a back of what appeared to be different kinds of snacks on the coffee table, “She’ll be here in a few.”

“Great,” Tom nodded, taking another sip of his second glass of Whiskey. Paul could admire the man’s ability to hold his gin. 

Emma smiled at Hannah, “Hey, Hannah. Tim’s in Xander and John’s media room playing Minecraft if you want to join him?” 

The younger girl’s eyes softened, and a small smile crossed her face. Paul was glad that the two had become friends over the course of spending so much time on base. Especially since everything that was going on left even the most qualified of adults baffled.

“See?” Ethan smiled, gently, “You like playing with Tim, right? Tim’s your friend right?” 

Hannah nodded with a small smile, “He’s good.”

Xander smiled, “Here, I’ll show you where he is...he’s playing Minecraft on peaceful mode.”

Hannah smiled and followed Xander out of the room. Tom turned to Ethan with a grim expression. 

“I heard you got to talk to your Dad today,” he said, keeping a small gentleness in his tone that Paul wasn’t used to hearing, “How’d that go?” 

Ethan smiled sadly, “He cried when he knew it was me...he said he was afraid I’d left for good or was dead in a ditch somewhere, but he was happy to hear my voice,” he grimaced slightly, “He got really pissed though when I told him I couldn’t come home yet though.”

“Makes sense,” Tom said with a nod, “Besides the garage, you’re Tony’s whole world.”

“Yeah,” Ethan nodded, “But when I told him Lex and Hannah were with me, he seemed to relax a little...he thinks Lex makes me act like less of a dumbass.”

“He’s right,” Tom and John both spoke simultaneously, laughing hysterically at the tandem. 

Ethan drew a hand to his chest in a mock offense with an overdramatic gasp, “I am offended...but yeah, you’re probably right.” 

He smiled, “I don’t suppose you’d allow a nineteen-year-old to drink a little?” 

“Absolutely not!” Tom said, crossing his arms, in spite of the whiskey glass he still held.

Xander frowned, “We might be a shady government organization, but we still are the government...I think we’ve got some juice boxes in the fridge.”

Ethan groaned, “John, your husband is goin’ against me on the basis of age.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘discriminating’,” John looked up with a teasing smile, “And I think they’re fruit punch flavored.”

Ethan sighed and turned to Paul, a look of mock-indignation, “Back me up, man!”

“They might be Hawaiian Punch?” Paul offered, with a small grin that made Emma chuckle against his shoulder. The sound of her laughter was something he never wanted to lose memory of. 

After a few moments, Ethan slank over to the fridge and pulled three Capri-Suns.

“Hannah likes ‘em,” He explained, trying very hard to keep himself from smiling. 

Paul chuckled, “And the other two are for Tim, I presume?” 

“I don’t know what ‘presume’ means,” Ethan retorted, “So, I’m assuming you’re makin’ fun of me...and I can’t think of any good comebacks so fuck you, sir.” With that, he retreated to the media room, presumably to offer Hannah and Tim the extra two juices. 

Paul gasped dramatically and held a hand to his chest, “I’ve been shaken to the core!” he turned to Emma, “How will I ever recover from such a sick burn?” 

She merely smiled and lightly slapped his shoulder. 

After a few moments, Ethan emerged from the way he left, with a look of fake-disgust on his face, “Mr. Texas Lumberjack…I think your kid can’t be friends with Hannah.”

Tom raised a suspicious eyebrow, “Why? Did he accidentally say something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing like that!” Ethan said, raising his hands up, “He just claimed that he _doesn’t like fruit punch!!_ What kind of kid are you raisin’? _”_

“One with common sense,” Colonel Schaeffer chimed in, “Strawberry Kiwi is the way to go.”

“Are we seriously having a discussion over which type of Capri-Suns are the best?” Xander chuckled, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were preschoolers.”

“Please tell me he at the very least likes Hawaiian Punch?” Ethan groaned, pressing his fingers to his temples. 

“I don’t let him have it,” Tom sighed, “Too much sugar.”

“Sunny-D has a lot too,” Becky added, taking a sip from her wine glass from where she was seated awkwardly near Tom.

The remark earned another gasp from Ethan, “That’s bull-”

“Okay,” John interrupted with a sigh that attempted to disguise his chuckles, “We can get started here and fill Lex in on the details once she arrives...we should probably start with what Emma has to report.”

He turned to Emma, who still had whipped cream on her face, “Emma, would you please?”

Emma nodded and took a sip of her cocktail, adding more cream to her growing mustache. Paul chuckled as she was about to speak, making her look at him with a playful glare, “Something funny, nerd?” 

He shook his head, wondering how long he could keep her from realizing that she resembled Colonel Sanders. 

She sighed and went on, “None of the PCR or ELISA tests came positive, and no gram stains worked...I couldn’t even culture it. Under close observation, we have confirmed that the infection that Paul had…” she stammered on the words, flinching at the memory. Paul gently moved his hand to her thigh and squeezed reassuringly as she found the right words, “The infection doesn’t have any similarity to any Earthly viruses. In addition, the compound possesses no elements native to this world...therefore making it all the more difficult to understand why we were able to pick up on the energies, to begin with.”

She took another sip of her drink, making Paul and Tom chuckle together as the mustache grew. She glared at them, “Something funny?”

“I’m sorry, Em...” Paul stammered through his giggles, realizing he’d let the joke go on for long enough and was accidentally undermining her message, “You’ve just got a little...” he gestured to her nose, and she moved a hand to wipe at it. 

As she withdrew her hand and noticed the white foam on her hand. She playfully glared at him, “How long were you gonna let me…”

“As long as possible,” he finished with a small smile, “But I didn’t want to keep laughing in the middle of your analysis...so...sorry.”

She rolled her eyes with a mock-annoyed smile and continued to wipe away at the whipped cream, “Did I get it all?” 

“Here,” he used his thumb to wipe away what was left above her lip with a small smile, before eating it himself. 

“Gross,” John muttered as he smiled into his whiskey glass. 

“That’s how you get diseases, my friend,” Xander said with a sigh. 

“I didn’t have a napkin!” He defended himself. 

“So you ate- you know what? Nevermind,” Emma muttered in fond exasperation, “We should probably stay on-”

She was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“That’ll be Lex,” Ethan said quickly, “I’ll get it, Johnny.” 

With that, he turned on his heel and went to the door. 

A few moments later, Ethan reemerged with a smiling Lex behind him. 

“Hey Lex,” Tom greeted, “Hannah’s with Tim and there are some juice boxes in the fridge if you want some. And before you ask, no, you can’t have any alcohol. Not on my watch.”

She groaned in fake-annoyance and turned to Ethan, “He was our favorite teacher?” 

Ethan nodded, “Yeah, our favorite teacher was a buzzkill...but he’s got Capri-Suns” He offered her the third fruit punch that Tim had rejected, which she accepted. 

“The Strawberry Kiwi ones are better, though,” she muttered, making Ethan gasp.

“Thank you!” Schaeffer called, raising her beer bottle in some form of salute.

Before Ethan could restart the great juice debate, Xander took the initiative to get the group back on track. 

“Continuing on,” he said, “Emma was just telling us about her findings in the lab, which you can add to when she’s done. Emma, you can go ahead.”

Emma nodded, “Like I was saying...the energies from the infection were so small, we shouldn’t have been able to pick up on them to begin with...to be honest, I can only assume that a tiny fraction of what we saw the day the portal endeavor happened had come from Paul.”

She paused, “So...to put it simply, whatever this is...it's either really really big or more than one thing got through.”

John sighed, “Can we be sure of that?”

“The readings were bigger than the ones from when Paul pushed me out of the way of a telephone pole…” she said with monotony, “If those readings were off the charts, and yet Paul presented little to no energy readings individually, we are facing something of great magnitude.”

Paul tried very hard to listen, but she was so smart. It was hard to focus on the matter at hand when Emma was being all smart and describing how powerful their impending doom was. If it wasn’t for the sense of dread that overtook the room, he would have been turned on. It was with this thought that he realized he must have been getting tipsy already.

He put his drink down and listened as Emma went on. 

“On the subject of Hidgens,” she sighed, “He’s gone back to being his normal self...which I realize is abnormal enough already, but besides the presence of lecturing Lex about the Black and White, he’s almost exactly as he was when I first met him. Same old dramatic Hidgens.”

Lex nodded and pulled out a stack of notes, “I’ve been keeping notes on what he’s been teaching me, as well as keeping track of energy readings from the room we train in and so far...judging from the looks of it…” 

She pulled out a strip of blue paper, with a red line that remained relatively straight down its length and handed it to Xander. 

Xander inspected the paper closely before muttering, “They’re within the normal range…”

“So...it’s not him?” Ethan asked, his eyebrow-raising as he sipped on his juice box. 

Xander continued to look at the paper, “Not necessarily...I mean, a great deal of these could be coming from Lex...and I altered the parameters in order to read her energy in that room as almost normal...but if this anomaly from the Black and White is big as we think it is...then we should be getting many jagged peaks…”

“Maybe it’s wrong?” Schaeffer offered, grabbing herself another beer from the bar, “I mean...it wouldn’t be the first time a sensor has malfunctioned.”

Xander nodded, “It could be...I’ll recalibrate the sensors in that room tomorrow.”

John nodded with a small sigh, “We shouldn’t get too nervous, but we also need to be vigilant...these things from the Black and White are powerful and not to be trifled with.”

He looked at Lex again, “Has he taught you anything suspicious?” 

Lex thought for a second and shook her head, “He’s mostly been having me read his aunt’s notes and stuff like that...the only interaction with the Black and White he’s been having me do is accessing it...but not searching for souls or auras or shit like that.”

John looked down, “So...so far, in spite of what we’d like to believe...Hidgens isn’t acting suspiciously?” 

Lex shook her head, “I still don’t trust him...but no. He isn’t.” 

Ethan snorted, “That doesn’t eliminate him though...right?”

John shook his head, “No...but it does make us have to consider the fact that Hannah claims one of the beings cheated.”

“She could have meant the singing blue one,” Lex pointed out, “She did attempt to infect Paul and all that…”

Paul looked down, suddenly feeling very small. Emma squeezed his hand before looking up at Lex, “But the energy readings don’t match up. You weren’t here for this...but only a small amount of the energy could have come from Paul on that day.”

“Oh,” Lex’s face fell, “So we’re still at square one?”

“Unfortunately,” Xander said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“I think…” Tom started, turning to Paul “And he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to...but if Paul is up for it…”

Paul felt a small jolt of shock cut into his heart and gut as all eyes turned towards him. 

“I think Paul should...at the very least try…” Tom said, looking slightly guilty as he spoke, “Try and tell us what happened...when he was pulled from the portal. Maybe he saw something.”

Emma’s grip on his hand tightened and Paul felt his heart in his throat. He didn’t necessarily _want_ to talk about it...but he knew it would have to come out one way or another.

The blue flashed in his brain. The chill of Apatha’s presence as her mere _presence_ invaded his body. The screaming song in his ears as he felt like he was being torn apart and stitched back together-

“Paul,” Emma’s voice brought him back to reality, “You don’t have to if you don’t-”

“N-No…” he muttered, “I will.” 

Her eyes softened and she squeezed his hand gently. 

“Um…” he started, trying very hard to keep his voice strong and not wobbly as his stomach did cartwheels inside his chest “I was...um...I was waiting for Lex and Hannah to appear...you know? When they came to pull us out, they appeared near what looked like a tear in the Black and White...they looked like white silhouettes though. You remember?” he turned to John and Ethan, both of whom nodded. He went on, “They appeared, and Hannah called my name...so I walked towards them... as John and Ethan had. We were supposed to take Lex’s hand and then we’d get pulled out.”

He sighed and looked down at his shoes. Emma stroked his hand gently with her thumb and he went on, “I was close to them...but Hannah flickered in and out of my sight. She was gone...I figured it was just because she’d done her job.”

John nodded in concurrence, “She was exhausted and said that Webby told her to break off.”

Paul nodded, “So, all that was left was Lex...and I was so close, I was so excited...so excited to be going home…” he inhaled sharply, “I was maybe a yard or two away from Lex when _she_ appeared.”

He shuddered at the memory, “She knew my name...I’m assuming from the reset with the...you know, Apotheosis. I tried to run for Lex, but my feet were...they were stuck, I couldn’t move…”

Emma cuddled closer, squeezing his hand again, trying to comfort him as he tried very hard to maintain his composure, “S-She...um...she said she was sending me back with a gift and...and um…” he paused, searching his memory “I actually don’t remember what she did after that...all I remember is grabbing Lex’s hand, and...everything hurt...I was trying so hard to tell Emma to get away when I came to...but everything was just…”

He choked on his words and swallowed a sob down his throat, “E-Everything was so...so _loud…_ and it...it _hurt_ ,” he sighed shakily at the memory and stared at the floor, “The next thing I knew...I was in the Blue...unable to hear anything except for the songs...and feel the pain...”

“After we took you off the sedative,” Becky started, “Did the...the _Blue_ start to fade away?” 

He nodded, still looking down, “After it started to fade...I, um, I could _hear_ more...Emma’s voice mostly…”

He looked at Emma, who looked horrified, but a small blush rose to her cheeks. 

“I remember trying to tell her I was there...that I was trying to get back,” he said, his voice shaking, “She said my name, and suddenly...there I was…”

“Just like that?” Tom asked. 

“Just like that,” He affirmed with a nod, taking a big sip from his drink. 

After a while, Emma moved closer to him and patted his leg comfortingly, providing an anchor for him to remain in the present rather than the jumbled past from the Black and White. God, he was so lucky to have her in his life. 

Xander studied him intently, “So, you didn’t see anything else?” 

He shook his head, “No.” 

“Strange,” he said, “But I do remember Lex saying she had sensed-”

“ _HANNAH!!”_

A small screech sounded from the other room, making all the adults jump to their feet. Lex and Ethan shared a horrified look before bolting to the media room, followed by the rest of the adults in a panicked frenzy. 

As everyone made it into the media room, Paul saw Tim run for his dad, muttering and crying incoherently.

“She just…” Tim was sobbing, “We were...I’m...I’m _sorry…”_

Tom hugged his son closer, “Shhh….buddy, shh...it’s not your fault...it’s okay…” The words were reassuring, but the fear in Tom’s eyes was not. 

Emma held onto Paul for dear life and squeezed his hand. Their eyes met as the fear overtook them. Her brown eyes widened as their eyes met. It was clear that the fear of whatever had happened, in addition to the discussion of his infection had taken its toll. 

He turned to see Lex and Ethan sitting in the center of the room, around Hannah, who sat upright, rigid and statue-like, staring off into nothingness. 

“Banana?!” Ethan asked, his voice filled with fear. 

“Hannah?!” Lex pleaded, “C’mon, girly, say something!” 

It was then that Paul noticed that Hannah’s eyes had gone pure black. 

She stared off into space, her back straight and her legs folded underneath her. The steady rise and fall of her chest indicated that she was still breathing and alive, but she was so...unnervingly still.

His heart beat faster.

What had happened?

“Wh-What’s wrong with her?!?” Lex asked, looking frantically at Becky for some assistance, “Someone do-”

As if on cue, Hannah slouched forward with a sigh. 

“Hannah!” Lex cried as she caught her sister in her arms, “Hannah come on...say something!”

“L-Lexi…” the girl murmured as she opened her eyes. Paul felt a surge of relief run through his veins as she started to look around the room, searching her surroundings intently.

“Yeah, Yeah, Banana, it’s me…” Lex muttered, frantically wiping away tears of panic, “Ethan’s here too.”

“Ethan…”

“Y-Yeah, Banana, I’m here,” the older boy said, rubbing her back gently, “You okay?”

After a moment, the girl sat up, looking around the room in puzzlement, as if nothing had happened, “Too loud. Had to go deeper.”

“What?” Lex asked, searching the adults for any explanation, “What do you mean?” 

“More than seven,” she muttered, “Siblings. Woven. Scapegoat. Masks.”

She turned to Paul and pointed, making his stomach drop, “Favorite...distraction. Unfair. Pawn.”

“What do you mean, Hannah?” Emma asked, stepping forward tentatively. 

Hannah shook her head, “Split...more than seven...weaving another...Cheater….Masks. Puppetmaster. Showman.”

John stepped forward and knelt in front of the girl, “You went deeper...to make sense of what was loud?” 

Hannah nodded, before looking over at Tim, her eyes filled with sympathy suddenly “Scared you. Sorry.”

Tim sniffled and offered a nod in response, burying his face in Tom’s hip. 

Hannah looked at the group, surveying them sagely. 

Her next words shook Paul to his core, making him step forward and place a hand on Emma’s shoulder.

“Forever and always pawns. Forever and always a game. Forever and always unfair. Making plans...Split...more than seven...more than one. ”

He met John and Ethan’s eyes. 

“More than seven?” he asked, looking at Hannah, trying to keep his tone gentle, “More than seven...beings?” 

She nodded, “Webby’s siblings...Webby’s kind.”

He looked at John, his heart roaring in his ears, “There are more.”

Ethan sputtered, “Then that means…we have no way of knowing who we’re dealing with...”

“And we are defenseless…” John muttered, his eyes filled with something that looked broken, “The apocalypse is coming…”

“No,” Hannah’s small, but powerful voice echoed through the room. 

Everyone turned to Hannah, horror in their eyes, making their bones shake and filling them with a terror no one would admit.

“Already here.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...a lot happened there.  
> John just wants to drink with his friends and not have to deal with the drama of the Black and White.  
> Wonder what's up with Lex and Hannah.  
> Paul needs more snuggles and not struggles (although, he gets really romantic when he's tipsy and around Emma).  
> Sure hope nothing bad happens to these guys...
> 
> Sorry for the really long chapter!! Please leave comments and/or kudos if you want to let me know what you think!!  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!
> 
> My Tumblr:@ShhImAvoidingSleep


	34. On a Cobweb Afternoon In a Room Full of Emptiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex doesn't feel so good.  
> John gives Paul a warning.  
> Paul and Emma are in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Like a Stone" by Audioslave (which slaps, in spite of the inherent angst)
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: There is implied sexytimes in the third section. Its mostly just kissing because I'm not comfortable with writing that but the message gets across all the same.

Reset No. 6

Date: August 24th, 2018

Being Unknown

“Alright, guys,” Lex called, “I’m taking off, I’ll be back in three hours.”

Hannah and Ethan were seated on the couch, watching an episode of _Chopped_ as Lex prepared to leave for a day of training with Hidgens. She didn’t want to leave, especially after the conversation at the meeting the night before, but she had to keep tabs on Hidgens and she had to make sure that everything was under control. 

“Okay, babe,” Ethan smiled from his place on the couch, “Have fun...oh God, he needs to sear the meat first, Hannah. Can you believe that?”

She rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her, knowing that the food network would keep the two of them occupied well enough for the time being. She ignored the tension in her head and the slight ringing in her ears as she locked it, before heading off towards the labs for another full day of analyzing everything she could about Henry Hidgens. A job she didn’t necessarily like. 

The events of the previous evening were hazy in her mind as she began her journey to the labs. She remembered the meeting, and she remembered leaving the apartment, but she didn’t remember the space in between those times. 

She’d not gone straight to John and Xander’s right? She hadn't arrived with Hannah and Ethan. She’d...she needed to grab something right? She’d forgotten something in...somewhere…

She shook these thoughts away. She’d had everything she needed when she did turn up at John and Xander’s, and she’d been fine then. She probably just was absent-minded when it came to retrieving the scans...kinda like how she would block out the process of unboxing and shelving different toys while Frank droned on and on about pricing and how wonderful their newest additions would be for business. In some ways, the repetitive movement had helped her block everything out...perhaps that had been the case the night before. 

Still...she wasn’t used to retrieving...something. 

She raised a hand to her temple, massaging where tension had formed through the night. Her jaw was sore for some reason. Maybe she’d just slept with it clenched?

The night before had been weird, she knew that much. 

There were some things she never wanted to talk about again, but she knew that the coming to light of what had been discussed the night before was inevitable. There was no escaping it. The way Hannah had...wait...what had they talked about?

The tension in her skull rose and the sound of the air conditioner echoed in her mind. Was anyone going to fix that?

She slid her access card through the first entrance to the second set of labs. Hidgens had sent her a transponder message telling her that they wouldn’t be in the primary labs today and would be spending much more time in Hidgens’ private labs to try and ‘hone her actual senses’. Luckily for her, Xander had hidden another transponder and sensor in those rooms, so if she ended up doing anything that PEIP found shady they could easily pull her away from the situation. That had been a source of some sort of comfort during her escapades as a spy on Hidgens. At the very least, she knew she didn’t have to worry about anything unusual going unnoticed. 

She flinched as the air conditioner’s sound rose to an annoyingly loud roar. God, how crappily funded was PEIP that they could afford all the medical equipment and tactical gear that they had, and yet they couldn’t fix the air filtration system?

“Hey, Lex!” Callie Watson greeted her from her place at her monitor, snapping her out of her thoughts, “How’s Hannah?” 

“Um…yeah…” Lex stammered, running a hand through her loose hair, unsure of what to do with the older girl’s evident desire to make pleasant conversation, “Hannah’s good.”

Callie grinned and turned back to her work station, “That’s great. Emma’s already here if you wanna stop by and see her before you go to Doc Brown’s office.” 

“Doc Brown?” Lex wasn’t really in the mood for fun banter. Besides, PEIP didn’t have a ‘Doc Brown’ to her knowledge.

Callie’s eyes widened with mock-indignation, “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen _Back to the Future?”_

“Um…” the movie title was familiar, maybe it had played at the Cineplex before she got wrapped up in...whatever this was, “I don’t think so…”

Callie shook her head in disbelief, “I don’t know what you were watching up until this point, but I think if Emma and her geek knew about that, then you’d be bombarded with a movie night of your life.”

Lex didn’t know what to make of this. Instead, she tried to find a way to get out of the conversation, “Hey, do you know where Emma is?”

Callie raised an eyebrow, “I just told you...she’s already here...at her station.” The woman studied Lex further, “You okay?” 

Lex nodded, realizing too late that she was doing it way too quickly to be true, “I just...I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night.”

A lie. She’d fallen dead-asleep the second her head had made contact with her pillow. But she could think of no other excuse that made sense. The fact that the air conditioner was still extremely loud also seemed a little nit-picky. 

“Okay,” Callie nodded, “Be sure to get some sleep, okay?” 

“Okay,” Lex nodded before walking away hastily. 

“Take care, Lex,” Callie called after her, but Lex was already gone, making a beeline for Xander’s lab quadrant, where Emma would inevitably be. The roar in her head rose...sounding less like an…she’d thought that before...hadn’t she?

She felt an emotion she couldn’t recognize thrumming in her veins as she tried to make her way over to the door as quickly as possible. 

What was the matter with her?

She was never this disoriented. Even when she was high or drunk or anything. She’d always managed to keep herself together...in spite of the inherent mess that was her life. 

She pulled open the door to Xander’s labs and saw Emma, positioned over a lab table, her elbows on the table as she very carefully lowered something that looked vaguely like a giant pen combined with a syringe into a box-like structure filled with fluid. As she did so, Lex was careful to keep herself quiet, as she watched Emma press down on the small plunger slowly as she narrowed her eyes down at whatever was in the fluid. As she withdrew the small contraption slowly, Emma let out a sigh, looked up, and smiled as she noticed Lex. 

“Hey, Lex,” She greeted, disposing of the small tip on the small tool in a beaker of what smelled like bleach, “What can I do for you?” 

“I- I…” It just occurred to Lex that she didn’t actually know _why_ she came in here, “I just wanted to say hi...” 

“Well...hi...?” The older woman raised an eyebrow as she set the lid on top of the small box-like chamber before attaching red and black electrodes to opposing sides of the chamber and switching on what looked like an indigo power box.

“What’re you working on?” Lex asked. Not because she was actually interested, but because she needed _something_ to get her mind focused. 

“Oh,” Emma seemed surprised, “I’m just running another PCR and Electrophoresis to see if I can isolate any new genetic components of Paul’s blood and compare it to...whatever I managed to extract from the blue shit that Hidgens was able to extract.”

She gestured to the transparent chamber, where lex was able to make out the cloudy figure of a large square. Along the length of one of the sides, Lex was able to see a row of blue rectangles, standing out amidst the square. 

“That's an agar gel,” Emma explained, “After running a PCR, I used this micropipette to insert the isolated genetic material, along with a buffer I’ve been experimenting with, into the gel. This chamber is gonna run the negatively charged-”

Emma’s voice was drowned out as the buzzing within Lex’s skull grew. There was no melody, no order, just noise. 

Part of her wanted to scream, to hold her head in her hands, but she found herself frozen...even as the sound grew, numbing her head, stifling her senses. She tried to turn to Emma and beg for help, but the noise grew and grew and grew and…suddenly...

Silence. 

She felt numb. 

Almost as if nothingness had embraced her wholly. 

She didn’t feel anything…and yet, everything was familiar. 

She could see things she hadn’t seen before. 

She could hear things she hadn’t been able to hear before.

Her fingers were buzzing as they adjusted, the sound of the world that surrounded her growing louder and newer. It intoxicated her and made her feel like she’d never been there before. 

She had. But _he_ hadn’t.

“Lex?” 

That was her name...wasn’t it? 

“Lex, you okay?” a familiar...but strange voice asked.

She turned to face the woman who was looking at her, a concerned look in her dark eyes. Soon that woman would meet her reckoning. 

“Yeah, yeah…” she searched her memory for the right name, “Yeah, _Emma_ , I’m fine.” 

“Late night treating you bad?” Emma asked, quirking her eyebrow as she looked Lex up and down. 

“Yeah,” she said, knowing it wasn’t a truthful answer, “I guess I better go work with Hidgens now, huh?” 

“Okay,” Emma said with a small smile, “Well...I’ll see you around, Lex.”

“Yes...of course.” 

With that, the thing that looked like Lex Foster turned on its heel and made its way towards the lab. 

Soon they’d all see. 

Soon they’d know. 

You couldn’t escape the Black and White. 

Not without facing the consequences. 

And there would be a price, they would realize.

A reckoning. 

Paul Matthews had narrowly avoided his. 

Emma Perkins had been able to evade it.

Soon they’d both realize that it was time for them to pay the price of their treachery. 

Of their rebellion. 

Of the most heinous crimes, one could be convicted of. 

To defy the laws that bonded reality in irons. 

Those two had defied it and torn it to shreds. 

And soon they’d all know. 

The price was something they couldn’t avoid.

A price paid in blood and death and agony. 

Penance was due...and it would rip them to shreds. 

Part of his mind was filled with exhilaration at the thought.

The thing that wore Lex Foster’s skin smiled, reveling in the prospects of watching their suffering.

The show would begin soon… and he was playing both director and villain. Everything was at his whim. Soon the world would be his. A mere substandard disciple no longer.

No. 

He would win the game. 

Whatever the cost. 

And he would make Paul Matthews and Emma Perkins suffer. As well as anyone who dared side with them. 

That included John McNamara.

That included Xander Lee.

That included Becky Barnes.

That included Tom Houston. 

That included E...Ethan Green. 

That included… H...

A small part of Lex Foster’s soul screamed out as the list of names echoed off in the Being’s mind, making him smile with her smile. Cruelty bloomed in his veins as the final name went off in his mind. A death sentence that made the small portion of the girl's rebellious soul scream and cry in agony. 

That included Hannah Foster. 

The list of those that would suffer for their alliance had been written into the universe. All that was left was to play Judge, Jury, and eventual executioner. 

As Lex’s body met the professor, they both smiled at one another, an unspoken recognition blooming in the eyes of both. Both knowing what they needed to do. Their plans for havoc blossomed as the two studied one another. 

Both of their eyes were not their own as they looked at one another. A strange and cool familiarity with which they acknowledged the chaos they would wreak upon the world. 

Like puppets on invisible strings, the two of them nodded in perfect tandem at one another, the knowledge of their path clear as crystal. 

“Well…” Henry Hidgens smiled cruelly, “Let’s begin, why don’t we?” 

\---

As John made his way into the intelligence sector of the building, he was greeted by the slight warmth of the room and the only source of light was the rows of computer monitors in separate cubicles. In spite of the department itself being relatively large, the room was only occupied by three individuals at the moment, all of them glued to their computer screens as though their lives depended on it. 

He was only concerned with one of the individuals though as he made his way over to the specific corner where his friend had made himself at home, separated from the other analysts who’d begun to look more like zombies in the darkness of the room. 

“Hello, Paul,” he greeted, maintaining professionalism. 

Paul looked up and smiled slightly, looking tired, undoubtedly from the night before. Everything had seemingly come crumbling around them in a span of an hour. One moment, they’d been debating the quality of juice boxes, and the next, they knew that the apocalypse was coming for them. 

No. 

Not coming. 

“Already here” in the words of Hannah Foster. 

Had he not been a man with a strong stomach, he would have been nauseated at the thought. Still, he’d known that the fate of the world was at stake...wasn’t it always?

It seemed like a cruel joke of the universe. They’d only just returned to their loved ones, and disaster after disaster, things were going to come crumbling down. 

Still, he’d known the world wasn’t fair. It never could be. All they could do was fight back, even as they’d been kicked down, over and over again. 

Part of that was the reason he’d come to talk to Paul, to begin with. 

Most people would have pinned the man for a coward. Honestly, he wouldn’t have put it past the man to be afraid of his own shadow where anything else was concerned. But time and time again, in spite of what the universe threw at him, he’d proven himself to be brave in an extremely rare regard. 

He’d managed to fight back against the Apotheosis, in a way that no one else had. He and Emma both had defied the forces of the Black and White and had therefore gained their attention. For whatever reason, John was fairly certain that the forces of the Black and White hadn’t taken kindly to whatever they’d done in order to get the three of them back. 

If he was right, he was sure that Paul and Emma had made themselves targets of the Black and White. Still, he couldn’t hide them away. There was no purpose in doing so, not when they were so crucial to the overall story. Like the Fosters, Paul and Emma were entangled in the plot too deeply to be ignored or shoved away. 

“What can I do for you, John?” Paul asked, setting the stack of spreadsheets he’d been examining to the side. 

“I need to talk to you,” John said, keeping his voice low, “It’s about last night’s briefing.”

Paul’s eyes turned down in a grave expression. John vaguely remembered the expressions of terror that had overtaken Emma and Paul when Hannah had uttered the fateful words when she’d pointed to Paul and called him a “pawn” and a “distraction”. 

“What’s up?” Paul asked, his voice lowered as he clearly wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation. 

John inhaled sharply, “I believe we aren’t out of the woods just yet, Paul.”

The other man let out a chuckle that sounded dry and humorless, “Yeah, no shit.”

“It gets worse,” John murmured, accompanied with an eye roll, “I think it’s under our noses.”

Paul raised an eyebrow, “How so?”

“You know what Hannah was saying about masks? And cheating?”

Paul nodded and John went on, “Just before we were pulled into the Black and White, I was watching a briefing in which Xander, Tom, Schaeffer, and Hidgens were discussing the plan to get us out.”

“The final briefing,” Paul said with a nod, “You told us about it.”

John nodded, badly wishing he had a cigarette with him, “Yes...but what I didn’t mention was that I was visited by Wilbur Cross.”

Paul’s eyes widened, “You-you what?”

John nodded. The fact that he’d concealed the fact of Cross’ visit from Paul and Ethan was not one that he was proud of. The knowledge of keeping the secret had weighed on his conscience often. To be honest, at the time he’d not even been sure that the wily man’s words had any depth to begin with.

But now that Hannah had spoken, one phrase, in particular, weighed heavily in his mind.

“What did he say?” Paul asked, clearly trying to keep his stress down as he took in John’s words.

“He told me that we made allies with the wrong people,” John sighed, “To be honest, I thought that he was just trying to get into my head and doubt the mission itself but now...now I’m not so sure.”

Paul looked down, murmuring a few frantic ‘okay’s under his breath, “So...you think he was talking about Hidgens?”

John shook his head, “I think this goes deeper,” he muttered, “These entities, Paul, they’re smart...they know how to get into your head at just the right moment and manipulate the situation to reign chaotically in the end.” 

“So if it’s someone we know,” Paul began, his eyes wide and incredulous, “Why are you trusting me with this information? For all you know, it could be me! After all, I _was_ infected.”

“Yes, but that’s where the first distraction part comes in,” John explained, “Hannah said you were a scapegoat...something that whatever had escaped from the Black and White jumped at, allowing us to use your...state -to put it delicately- as a point of focus while it nestled itself into our lives.”

“I mean...you’re not wrong,” Paul reasoned, “But who else could it be? Hidgens is the only one who's shown signs of opposing our conduct, we don’t just have Em and Lex monitoring him for no reason.”

“That is true,” John nodded, “Nevertheless, I am still fairly certain that whatever is to come, you and Emma will be on the receiving end of it. And because of that, I warn you to be vigilant.”

“Why us?” Paul asked, sounding slightly annoyed, “We’re powerless...we’re just ordinary people. I’m pretty sure Em was the one to say this first, but did we do something to offend the universe?” 

“Not the universe, Paul, no…” John replied, “But to the beings of the Black and White, you two enabled some of the most revolting things to occur.”

“How so?” Paul challenged, clearly fed up with what the beings of the Black and White thought. 

“You two enabled us to escape from the Black and White- A feat no being in the Black and White has ever been able to accomplish entirely- by the sheer force of your bond alone,” John explained, “I know I must sound like a sappy old soothsayer...but it’s true.” 

Paul didn’t seem convinced. John merely sighed and went on. 

“Ethan and I were trapped in the Black and White for an _extensive_ period of time...which is nonexistent in the Black and White, so that doesn’t necessarily matter. Anyways, we were _never_ able to connect with our soulbonds,” he began, the images of past lifetimes he’d witnessed in the Black and White making themselves clear in his mind, “When you joined us, it weakened the fabric of the reality so much, that it allowed your influence to seep through, damaging it even more and eventually leading memories of us to reach Xander, Hannah, and Lex.”

“Well...the fabric of Hatchetfield’s reality was weak enough, to begin with,” Paul pointed out, “I thought the third bond was just the catalyst?” 

“That's what we thought too,” John nodded, “But when I think about the past lifetimes, where you and Emma resisted every time, you fought back against the Black and White, even when you didn’t understand. Even as you were trapped, you defied the rules of the Black and White and managed to save Emma’s life. You and Emma defied the laws of the Black and White, the influence of the Eldritch beings from within the Black and White every time...without fail.” he shook his head with a small laugh, “Talk about a power soulbond.”

“But…” Paul croaked, “We’re just...just _people.”_

“Yes, but people who have defied the Black and White numerous times,” John countered, “In spite of the way things are supposed to go, you and Emma were a force of resistance...it’s what made you a favorite of Apatha, and it’s what making you both a threat to whatever it is that seeped through.”

“So…” Paul muttered, his eyes wide as he stared off into space, “Because we’re bonded...like that...the forces of Black and White don’t like us.”

“That's a little simplistic of a description, but yes,” John reasoned, “You two managed to evade the forces and laws of the Black and White several times over, and whatever made it through the portal would be a fuckin’ moron to not realize that.”

Paul buried his face in his hands not looking up, “S-So what would you have me and Emma do?”

John shook his head, “At the moment, Paul, I can only tell you to be vigilant and careful, we don’t want to take any drastic measures to let whatever was able to get through know that we’re onto them...but at the same time, I am not about to risk another reset.”

Paul nodded, “And we’re sure that Emma’s…” He paused, not wanting to say the fateful words. John understood why. Paul had watched Emma die time after time, and each time had been a devastating blow. Life had been merciful to Xander in all resets, seeing as how he was always still alive when a reset occurred, but Paul had to watch Emma, who was always in the center of the chaos, die. John admired the fact that the man’s mind hadn’t been broken completely at the idea. Paul went on, a stutter in his words, “Are we sure that... _that_ would be the end of it?” 

“We have no other correlation,” John murmured sympathetically, “But if the forces of the Black and White know that Emma’s death would bring about the end of a turn, you both might be in for a fate worse than death.”

“How would you know that?” Paul asked, his eyes widening. 

“Wilbur Cross knew,” John said mournfully, “But since he’s essentially the emissary for the beings of the Black and White, it wouldn’t surprise me if they knew. If they do know, then they know that keeping Emma alive means prolonging their turn, but that also could mean a whole heap of worse things...for you and Emma both.”

Paul looked down, anxiety flaring in his eyes, “Did we ever tell Emma that her death could mean the end of the reset?” 

John thought about it, “I don’t think so.”

“We should,” Paul said, “I’ll tell her tonight.”

“Good,” John said, mentally admonishing himself for not bringing it up sooner. While the idea that Emma and Jane bookended the resets was mostly a theory, it was still imperative that Emma knew. How they’d been so ignorant to not bring it up at this point escaped him. 

“She’s gonna keep working at this, though,” Paul said, his eyes filled with a kind of fond admiration, “She might be a little more cautious, but she’s gonna keep working.”

“Oh I have no doubt about that, she’s a fighter, your Emma,” John nodded, “It still doesn’t hurt to have her increase her vigilance all the same.”

“I’m not gonna ask her to stop, John,” Paul established, his eyes serious, “She’s doing this because she _wants_ to, and I am _not_ about to tell her what she can or can’t do.”

“You overestimate my guts if you think I have the nerve to tell _Emma Perkins_ to step aside and stop working,” John laughed, slightly in awe of how much respect Paul had for what Emma offered PEIP, “Besides, it would be too conspicuous to have a scientist with as many assets as she offers to step aside from that abruptly. It would raise some eyebrows, which we don’t need. All that I’m asking is that you at least tell her that both of you might be in danger and keep your wits about you.”

Paul nodded, “I’ll tell her tonight.”

“Good,” John looked to the side, his eyes trailing over the data Paul was inputting, analyses of energy readings as interpreted by Xander and Emma, “There are strange forces at work here, Paul, strange forces. We don’t know what they are...but…”

“They’re going to make a move all the same?” Paul finished. 

John nodded again, “We need to be prepared...the world doesn’t know what’s coming. We don’t know what’s coming, but I can feel it in my gut that something’s gonna happen...and it's gonna happen soon. And I hope I’m wrong...but we can never be too careful.”

Paul snorted humorlessly, “If the apocalypse could just give us a timestamp or something, that would be great.”

John laughed, “That would make my job a ton easier.”

After a while, John checked his watch, “Well...I better be getting back to command, just be sure to pass the message along, okay?” 

Paul nodded, “Thank you for the warning.”

“See you later, Paul,” with that, John saluted the man and turned on his heel. 

The vague inclination of anxiety ate away at his thoughts. 

He hoped with all his might that everything would turn out okay. He hoped he made the right choices as a general. He hoped he could protect the people he’d grown to care about. He hoped he didn’t lead them astray. 

_God, I hope everything will be okay in the end_ , he found himself thinking, in spite of every realistic aspect of his mind begging him to remain knowledgeable of the consequences. 

“It will be, John,” Paul’s voice interrupted his doubts. He turned to the man, who was looking at him with an encouraging (albeit nervous) look. 

Had John said that out loud? 

All he could do was offer Paul a nod and a small smile as he left. 

There were so many promises that he wished he could make in the knowledge that he could keep them. But he knew that in this line of business, nothing was guaranteed. 

Perhaps it would have been better had he not warned Paul. 

Honestly, the fact that he’d previously been infected by a force of the Black and White made him one of the more likely people to be corrupted or under the influence of whatever had come through. The reason John had decided to warn him was largely due to the fact that he had faith in Paul and Emma. If the past resets were any indication, there was nothing that they wouldn’t do for one another, and there was nothing they wouldn’t do to fight back. They’d outlasted everyone in the Apotheosis. They’d remained outside of Wiggly’s chaos and influence. He had faith that they would fight back against this.

He couldn’t promise that they would make it out of this alive, but he was a wiser man now, and his faith in the human heart had only grown whilst watching from the Black and White. 

He might not have understood a word of what Hannah Foster had said the night before, but he knew that there was merit to her sayings than most would give her credit for. The girl was powerful, but he wasn’t sure if the forces in the Black and White knew that yet. The only one who’d known had been Webby, and she’d evidently gone silent. Somehow, in Webby’s absence, though, Hannah had been saying much more. While they didn’t make as much sense as they had when Webby may have been present, Hannah blossomed when it came to power. 

He thought about their small group. A group that consisted of a Theoretical Physicist, a weathered Colonel who could whip your ass and you’d thank her, a former Captain with PTSD, a badass redhead nurse, a guy who didn’t like musicals, a firecracker of a barista and biologist, a greaser-type teenager who couldn’t spell, a high school dropout who could touch the Black and White, and her eleven-year-old sister, who might just have been the most powerful of them all. Then of course, there was Tim, who hadn’t really been kept in the loop of information but had been in the group all the same, and Kamaria, who decided she wanted to serve more as a consultant for their investigation rather than be a part of it (which he respected). 

All of these people had entrusted him with their lives.

He only hoped he wasn’t leading them in the wrong direction. 

\---

“Please say something.”

Paul looked over at Emma, who was staring down into her bowl of ramen with an unreadable expression on her face. They were sitting on the couch, too lazy to get up to move to the table (something Paul normally would have protested, but today had been a long day, so he could let it slide) eating noodles because neither of them wanted to go down to the cafeteria to deal with people. Somewhere through their dinner, he’d decided it would be a good time to bring up what John had warned him of earlier in the day. The message had weighed heavily in his mind…the idea that their lives were in danger because they had the apparent audacity to fight back against forces of darkness from within the Black and White was sickening. Had it not been for the fact that he’d _seen_ the Black and White and felt the terror that it could instill into your bones, he would have found it laughable. 

Anxiety twisted in his chest as he watched her process the information she’d just been given. Paul was worried that he’d timed it wrong, or perhaps maybe he’d been too abrupt in telling her what John and he had shamefully neglected to tell her. 

She sighed and looked up at him, her eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t quantify, “So…” she whispered, “You think my death ends the reset and the cycle starts over again.”

He nodded nervously, “That-um...that’s the theory...I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you when we should have…” 

She just stared down into her soup, muttering the word ‘okay’ under her breath.

“And it could be wrong…” he added, “But John thinks that because of our repeated resistance…”

“That we’re being targeted?” she finished. 

“Yeah…” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. 

She looked up, her eyes meeting his. A humorless laugh left her chuckle, “Well shit.”

He chuckled along with her, although they both knew the underlying implications of what John had meant. With a sickening twist in his gut, he knew that they wouldn’t be truly safe anywhere. 

“Well…” she sighed, a small smile crossing her expression, “I guess I’m just gonna have to not die...and beat the shit out of the apocalypse when it _does_ come.”

He chuckled and shook his head, relief blooming in his chest. _This_ was one of the many reasons he’d fallen in love with her, “So...you’re not-”

“I mean…” she interrupted, her eyes wide, “It's a bit of a shock, I’ll admit...but it definitely gives me more reasons to not die...I guess. Besides, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m working close to the situation, we’ll just need to be more careful.”

Paul nodded, “I don’t want to step away from the investigation either. It wouldn’t help anyone.”

She raised an eyebrow, a sly smile crossing her face, “Oh? So Mr. Paul ‘ let's deadbolt the attic because we don’t want anyone up there and collapsing through the ceiling’ Matthews is ready to step into the thick of it all, huh?” 

He groaned, “Hey, you don’t get a house that cheap without there being major concerns. I went up there _once_ and I swear my foot almost went into the living room.”

She laughed and sighed, looking at him with a fond but wary expression, “But you and I aren’t willing to step back?” 

He shook his head, unbelieving of how convinced of this he was, “It's been our fight for lifetimes, Em. We keep ending up in the thick of it regardless of whether or not we want to.”

She nodded, her face falling slightly, “Maybe this time will be different? I mean...we’re with PEIP before the force has taken root. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“Yeah,” he mused, “But we might be dealing with more than one force, Em. There's the Being whose turn it’s supposed to be, and the Being who cheated. Neither of us knows which is which, and we don’t know if my…” he trailed off.

He was letting his mind wander again.

He didn’t like that.

The memories of what Apatha had put him through made him feel like he was experiencing that pain over and over again. His heart pounded in his chest as the memories of the Blue and the screaming and made him realize he'd never escape-

“Paul?” her voice snapped him back into reality. It was like her Goddamn superpower, “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking over her concerned expression, getting a hold on his breathing, “The reality of this...it’s just a lot.”

She set her mostly-empty bowl down on the coffee table and scooted closer to him, resting her hands on his face, cupping his jaw gently, and looked up at him. 

“It is a lot,” she whispered, running her thumb gently over his cheeks, “But I’m right here with you. Neither of us is alone in this anymore.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, “I just...I don’t want to be separated from you again...or have to watch you die…”

She sighed and nodded in understanding, “I know, but if we keep fighting this, Paul, think of the chances of a normal life we can have rising? It’s risky, yeah, and _neither_ of us wanted this to happen...but it did,” she paused to look at his face, “I mean...that whole ‘everything happens for a reason’ saying is bullshit, but we are here for something...right?”

He nodded and she smiled, “Everything’s gonna be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” he sighed, feeling relaxed.

“Okay?” she asked again, smiling slightly. 

“Okay,” he confirmed, kissing her lightly on the forehead, “I love you, Em.”

“I love you too,” she murmured, kissing him on the jaw, gently, but also teasingly, sparking something electric inside of him“No matter what happens.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, prompted by her affectionate embrace, trailing his lips gently around her face as his breath grew heavier, “Forever and always.”

She nodded and hummed, pressing kisses to what parts of his face she could reach as he showered her with as much love as he could. His lips found purchase over her forehead, her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks (which had become painted in a deep blush), the corners of her mouth, her temples. He was determined to cover every inch of her face in as much affection as he could. 

After a while, she grabbed his face in her hands, holding him still as she pressed her forehead against his before capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He gasped slightly before melting into it. He’d never let himself forget how fantastic of a kisser she was. With a small chuckle, she deepened it, allowing him to hum in a content response.

Warmth began to pool in his stomach as he pulled her closer, holding her over his lap so that they were almost fused together. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer to her as she kissed him again, and again, stopping sometimes to trail kisses over his jaw or tease his pulse. 

Over time, the kisses grew more and more desperate, the love they had for one another seeping through every touch. He trailed his hands under her shirt, feeling her ribs and the scar that ran just above her hip bone (from a bus accident, just before she came home from Guatemala), he rubbed gently over it, taking his time to be gentle and loving. 

Her hands were wrapped around his neck and threaded into his hair, making him smile at the wonderful feeling of her hands combing through it. He trailed kisses down her neck, gentle and teasing, each one conveying just how much he adored her. 

She was intelligent, beautiful, tenacious, strong, and the most incredible person he’d ever encountered. And although she didn’t know just how wonderful she was, he wanted to be worthy of her. 

“Paul,” she whispered gently, her eyes blown wide as she pushed him back gently onto the couch so she leered over him. 

“Hmm?” he hummed breaking away for a moment to look up at her, taking her in for the wonderful person she was, as the loose strands of her dark hair framed her face, giving him the perfect focal point. God, she was so beautiful. 

“Nothing,” she said with a smile, “I just like your name.”

He gave her a coy smile, "Emma," he responded, leaning up and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, making her sigh. 

He smiled warmly at her and kissed her again, murmuring her name over and over again in a devoted response that made her smile even bigger, kissing him more deeply. Gentleness turning into a much more passionate and desperate language translated through every embrace. 

He realized that they could all die within the next few days, and if they were being targeted, the brutal truth was that they didn’t have much time. 

All that mattered was now, and the precious time that they had together. 

If this was all the time they would get together, by God, Paul was going to make sure he made the most of it. He wouldn’t take a single second more with her for granted. 

He would make the most of every single millisecond he spent in her company. 

With her, he was home. He felt like he _belonged._ He felt like he had someone on his side at all times, even when they would disagree. He also felt like he had someone he would live for. Someone, he would work every day to be the best version of himself for. Someone who loved him completely and accepted him for every scar and flaw. He felt like he had a reason to make every day worth fighting for. He felt more like himself around her, almost like he hadn't been able to recognize himself before she could. 

He _loved_ her. 

Eternally. 

Completely. 

Unabashedly. 

When he looked at her, he saw forever. He saw eternity. 

In a single pair of brown eyes and a shit-eating grin, he'd found his home. 

And she loved him too.

He was a fool if he couldn't see that in the way that she held him, in the way she kissed him, in the way she told him everything was going to be okay, in the way she brought him back to reality, in the way she understood when no one else did. 

Emma Perkins loved Paul Matthews. 

Paul Matthews loved Emma Perkins. 

They were hopelessly devoted to one another, regardless of what life threw at them. 

As the lights went dim, and the warmth, devotion, and love enveloped them both, they were reminded time and time again of just how much they meant to one another.

In one another's arms, they found bliss. 

They found welcoming. 

They found home. 

And even if only for a moment, the darkness seemed to disappear. 

\---

Hidgens stood in his lab, the darkness and silence providing something soothing to him.

Normally, Henry would have preferred to have been totally alone, but this was a special occasion in which his plans would be set into motion. It was because of this, he was joined by Lex Foster, who stood opposite of him. 

Of course, it actually _wasn’t_ Lex Foster. 

She was hidden somewhere where no one would be able to hear her screams and cries for help. Not even her little sister, who was being left so addled by the sounds of the Black and White that the sounds of her older sister would be drowned out. No one, not even her idiot boyfriend would realize the difference until it was too late. 

They didn’t say anything as they stood there. Instead of her eyes being their usual smoky green, they were a shade of ice blue, the pupils shrank into vertical slits surrounded by a small burst of fire, making them startling and intimidating...but most of all...unearthly. 

She wasn’t her own right now.  
The skin was a perfect imitation of hers. Every small freckle, every mimicry of her usual expressions, every hair on her head was arranged to perfection. Still...it _wasn’t_ Lex. 

The fact that nobody had noticed yet was a miracle to him. 

The fact that Hannah had not noticed yet was a miracle. If Hannah couldn’t see, then they were in the clear. 

So, as the two stood there, wordlessly knowledgeable of what they would do when morning came. Of the blood that would be spilled in the age to come. 

They had their targets. 

They had their mission. 

Their directive was clear. 

Hidgens laughed, breaking the silence, staring at the hollow parody to Lex Foster that had just relayed to him mentally all the information he needed to succeed. 

The puppet smiled, and the master grinned back. 

He clapped his hands together, feeling his power grow and grow.

His mask was on and his illusion was perfect. 

They wouldn’t know what was happening when they would all be struck down, made to live in a mindless submission. 

Yes, it was similar to that dreary and self-important Apatha’s abilities, but he was determined to be a substandard disciple no more.

He was going to win. 

He was going to bring the others, who’d deemed themselves so superior to their knees. 

He was going to deliver hell to their doorstep. 

He grinned at Lex when he finally spoke louder than a hurricane, but heard by no mere mortal human. 

“ _It’s showtime!_ ” 

\---

Little did the showman know...that he was the real puppet. 

A puppet tangled in the webs of an itsy-bitsy spider. 

Webby laughed at his confidence. 

He couldn’t hear her, but he was indeed putting on quite the show for her. 

He believed himself to be on the path to victory. Believing himself to be the queen on the chessboard. He believed he was readying himself to envelop the town in death’s stroke and have himself be the one reigning over them all.

But she’d woven a plan of her own. A plan that she’d been waiting _lifetimes_ to complete. 

She would knit her family back together again. 

And then...then she would win. 

An itsy-bitsy spider no more. 

And she laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then...hopefully, nothing bad happens to them...
> 
> Poor Lex, though.  
> John is trying to be a good leader and I for one, support him.  
> Paul and Emma love one another. That is it. Goodnight.  
> (Hopefully, though the implied Paulkins sexytimes wasn't too bad)  
> Hidgens is playing checkers while Webby is playing 3D chess. 
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos to let me know what you think!!!!  
> Please, guys, please maintain social distancing!! Please wear your mask (CORRECTLY- WITH THE THING OVER YOUR NOSE AND MOUTH)  
> Please be safe and keep others safe!!!  
> Have an amazing day and thank you so much for reading!!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	35. I Run but It Stays Right by My Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul has a whole lot of trauma and hears an awful lot of things.  
> Luckily for him, Emma is an anchor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song "Until it Sleeps" by Metallica. 
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Blood, murder, death, grief, emetophobia, ableist language implication (r-slur, but the word is never actually said), cancer, parental death mention, panic attacks, nightmares, PTSD
> 
> ALSO!!! MAJOR NIGHTMARE TIME SPOILERS.  
> I tried to indicate them as best I could so people could avoid them (as they are not entirely necessary to the story), but they are in one chunk. This chunk starts with the sentence "Before he had time to register that he was..." and ends with the sentence, "'Okay' was all he could think to say..."  
> Sorry if these weren't indicated well enough!!

Reset No. 6

Date: August 25th, 2028

Being Unknown

_He opened his eyes and was met with a familiarity and warmth he never wanted to let go of. Blinking the sleep from the night before away from his tired eyes, he felt safe and comforted._

_The room was painted gold in the early morning light that shone through their slightly parted curtains, making him feel like he was in heaven itself. The softness and warmth of the blankets clung to his bare skin, making him feel strangely all the more comfortable. Filled with comfort and familiarity he could never quite explain. He turned over to look at the source of his smile, and most of the warmth, as she slept on her stomach, her messy brown curls expanded over the pillows, forearms crossed under her head as she shifted, clearly refusing to wake up._

_He ran his fingers gently up and down her spine, making her groan and shift away from him, stubbornly remaining asleep. In response, he shifted closer and pulled her gently to his front, nuzzling his head into her warm skin._

_With a small shove against his shoulder, she turned over to face him, her eyes sleepily opening with a small smile. She was wearing his t-shirt, the one she’d thrown off of him in her haste the night before that almost swallowed her whole. God, she was so cute._

_He smiled at her as sunshine enveloped their bodies. Both of them feeling at peace in their bed. Relaxed and happy. Nothing to care about in the world except for one another._

_“Good morning,” he murmured quietly, running a hand through her hair._

_She hummed in response, “Mornin’, nerd.”_

_“You sleep okay?” he asked, using one hand to play with the loose strands of hair that hung in her face.._

_She exhaled quickly, sounding almost like a quiet laugh, “When we were actually sleeping...yeah.”_

_She wiggled her eyebrows at him, making him blush and laugh slightly. Instead of coming up with a clever retort, he pulled her closer, her warmth in his arms feeling like one of the best feelings in the world. He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair when she spoke._

_“Wanna just lay here?” she asked, “I don’t have anywhere to be.”_

_He didn’t either, so he just nodded, closing his eyes as he held her close, letting her warmth and life envelop him. He could have stayed in her arms forever._

_He had no idea how he’d ever been so lucky to be there. In a lifetime where he’d spent the majority of his early days trying extremely hard to pass as someone who would go unnoticed, he felt like he mattered. He wasn’t special. He wasn’t anybody who caught attention- a feat he’d spent a great part of his life trying to accomplish, mainly just so he could hide the traits that people would see him differently if they knew he had them. But with her, he felt like he was the luckiest man alive._

_“Hey,” she whispered, “I love you, you stupid fucking nerd.”_

_“I love you too, short mean woman,” he whispered back with a small chuckle as he leaned in to kiss her, before being pulled down to meet her lips instead. Her body was warm as he wrapped himself around her, holding her close and basking in how much he loved her, even when she deemed it a time that was ‘too early to be nice to people’._

_She nuzzled closer into his body, her arms wrapping around his back, softly running over his shoulder blades and ribs._

_They’d been together for a little over two years. Two of the happiest years of his life, he knew. When he was around her, he felt like he was the best version of-_

_Emma flinched. Her body spasming against his chest._

_“Emma? You okay?” He asked, looking down where her head was buried in his chest._

_She twitched again, and again, and with a sense of horror, he realized that something warm was pouring from her face, staining his skin._

_“Em?” He asked as he sat up, her body still slumping against his, as panic gripped his heart, “Em...Em c’mon.”_

_She shivered, a small pained whimper making its way from behind her lips, and he gently pulled back to look at her, propping her up with his arms, “Em...Em! Look at me, please!”_

_He cupped her face, tilting it up towards him as she limply slumped forward and had to stifle a scream._

_Her eyes were rolled back to a degree where her warm brown irises were not even visible, and leaking from her eyes in thick, inky tears, was black blood. The blood streamed from her nose, her eyes, and her ears, staining the bedsheets in black, oil-like blood._

_“Emma!” he cried, holding her up, cupping her face as desperation overtook him, “Em!_

_He didn’t know what to do as she shook and writhed, the blood flow never ceasing. That's when the feeling hit him. A cold and painful kind of familiarity._

_He looked around their room, realizing something._

_He’d not actually been there for a while. Had he? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually set foot in their house...right?_ _  
__But Emma...Emma was in pain. He had to do something._

_He reached over for his phone, gently laying her down on her back, his heart pounding in his chest. In haste, he dialed 911 before…_

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP._

_The sound echoed in his ears, screaming at him, taunting him, and making him feel as though he'd lost a game he didn't even know he was playing._

_He looked down at her and was met by another shocking wave of painful familiarity._

_He was in the PEIP infirmary. He’d not been there since he’d...since he’d woken up from something...right?_

_He whipped his head around and felt something inside him shatter._

_Emma was in a hospital bed, her eyes still pouring with the black blood. Instead of twitching and jerking in a painful seizure, she was laying still. He was wearing his bloodied and torn suit. He moved a hand to grab her own, but realized with a sickening drop in his stomach that he could touch nothing...his hand had phased through hers and the mattress beneath it._

_Panic seized his mind, blurring everything around him. Even as the figure of Becky and Nurse Chapel moved forward, working quickly to attempt to resuscitate her. The scene was so familiar, he felt like he could crumble. His hands balled into fists, unable to turn or run away._

_“Charging!”_

_The all-too-familiar whine of the AED filled the room._

_“Clear!”_

_Emma’s body lurched up._

_He sobbed._

_The scene was a perfect reflection of that day._

_That day...he’d been there...hadn’t he?_

_“Pulse?”_

_“Negative.”_

_No._

_No...it wasn’t right._

_Please._

_This couldn’t be right._

_“Charging!”_

_The shriek filled the room again._

_“Clear!”_

_Emma’s body lurched up again in a painful-looking thrash. Paul’s chest tightened at the sight, his breathing growing ragged and his hands twitching, his nails digging painful caverns into his skin as blood welled._

_“Pulse?”_

_“Negative.”_

_No. He couldn’t watch this again. Still, he found himself unable to turn away. He was a captive audience to his worst nightmare._

_“Charging!”_

_He hardly recognized the third whine as it rang throughout the room signaling a higher voltage than before._

_Surely they’d get her back this time._

_“Clear!”_

_Emma’s body jumped up, staying up longer this time, looking like her ribs were going to pop out of her chest. He let out a wail that went unnoticed as they tried again to save her life._

_No...but she came back, right? She’d be back soon. She’d be okay. It had to be okay._

_“Pulse?”_

_No answer._

_“Pulse?”_

_“Negative.”._

_“Alright...charging.”_

_“Becky...stop.” The other nurse said, “She’s gone.”_

_No. No. No._

_He knew this ended differently._

_It had to. Right?_

_“Time of death, thirteen fifteen. Becky, would you alert Major Lee...” The words faded into nothingness as the grief embraced him once more._

_But this ended differently right?_

_She’d wake up._

_Any moment now._

_But nothing. Only silence as Becky and the other nurse pulled the wires and tubes free from her body and pulled a blue sheet covering her still, pale body completely._

_No. That wasn’t right._

_“No…” he whispered, sobs building up in his chest, “This isn’t right...this isn’t...no…”_

_He couldn’t move, he couldn’t even run forward as Becky and Nurse Chapel used the sheet to transition the body- her body- onto a gurney._

_“No...no…” he closed his eyes as the painful, stinging tears affronted his eyes, “Em…”_

_This couldn’t be happening. She had to wake up. She had to live. Why hadn’t she lived…_

_He was alone._

_No one could see him._

_No one could hear his cries as he screamed out for Emma. Repeating her name in a mourning cry over and over again, his sobs choking him, drowning him._

_In a moment of pain, he opened his eyes, and shock overtook him when he realized he wasn’t in the infirmary anymore._

_He found himself surrounded by a thick expanse of trees. Leafless and stretching up, dwarfing him. The shades of winter had replaced the normal vibrance of autumn, making everything seem like it was from an old black and white film. The naked bark extending towards what may have been heaven, knit itself into a leafless canopy, making the grey shades of the sky seem like any light was nonexistent._

_In his mental agony, he felt like he was being shoved through different plains of reality. His ribs threatened to pierce his lungs as he desperately inhaled the freezing cold air. Each breath was agony as the chill froze the inside of his nose, his throat, his lungs. He felt so cold...so alone._

_Where was Emma?_

_He sobbed as the memory of her corpse met him, making him fall forward on his knees, into a pile of dead grey leaves. His cries echoed through the silence. He didn’t care. He was alone._

_He was alone._

_He...wasn’t alone._

_The sounds of leaves crunching, without any form of rhythm, but rather a sound mimicking the steps of a toddler just starting to walk gave him pause._

_He stood, ignoring the sharpness of the cold against his arms and face as he turned and was met by a small group, surrounding him in the clearing._

_At first glance, they looked like normal people, but as he studied the people, he felt more terror overtake him._

_“Bill?!” He asked, unable to comprehend the sight before him as he recognized the first of many familiar faces._

_It was indeed his best friend, Bill Woodward, who’d helped him get his act together as he adjusted to life while working at CCRP._

_It was indeed Bill...but it wasn’t._

_The brown eyes that had been filled with kindness and a vague sense of obliviousness had been turned a neon, ravenous blue. Not just any shade of blue._

_The Blue._

_He tried to swallow his fear as he took in the worst detail of it all._

_There was a bullet hole through the center of his forehead._

_The gruesome wound made Paul’s skin crawl as he looked at it. The wound was still leaking that horrific blue substance._

_The thing that was no longer his best friend grinned, cruelty in his gaze._

_“We’ve been waiting for you, Paul.”_

_No. No. No._

_He whirled around, his heart thudding in his throat, hot tears rolling in torrents down his cheeks as he took in the gruesome scene that surrounded him._

_He was met by the face of Ted, a bullet hole through his throat. His mustache was stained blue and pasted to his skin as blood leaked from his nose and mouth. Beside him was Charlotte, who looked much worse for wear since her lower abdomen was shredded, the remnants of what must have been intestines pained a sickening shade of cerulean staining her garish sweater. At her side was her husband, that asshole Sam, who had pools of blue blood leaking out from underneath his hat. Hidgens was next to him, who, like Charlotte, had been disemboweled, only some of the skin remained intact, stretching across the exposed organs like a web. He whirled around as he recognized the blue bleeding faces of Alice, Mr. Davidson, Lex, Ethan, John, Hannah, Emma’s coworkers until he saw a sight that shattered him._

_“Mom?”_

_In front of him stood his mother. Looking exactly as he remembered her from the last time he’d seen her. Martina Matthews was a beautiful woman, even as she looked sick, thin, and haggard, the effects of what he’d later know to be chemotherapy making itself painfully evident. A ragged blue beanie covered her head that had once possessed long brown curls that he’d loved to play with as a child. She appeared as though she was younger than him since she’d died years before her thirtieth birthday had even been in sight. Blue bruises ran up and down her arms, and her sunken eyes were no longer the soft blue he’d inherited from her. Instead, his mother who’d died long before Paul had become a man, was appearing before him as if she’d fallen victim to the apotheosis._

_Making the situation even worse, was the fact that beside her, standing awkwardly like a broken marionette was Emma._

_“Em…” he choked out, his eyes filling with tears once more as he looked between the two women._

_She was standing, her legs and arms twisted at awkward angles as tears and breaks in her flesh and bones made her look like she’d been torn limb from limb. The blue blood leaked from her eyes like tears as she stared blankly at him. At every joint there were lines of blue blood and torn blue tissue, making it look as though she were a puppet more than she was a human being. Even through her torn and stained Beanies uniform, where red and blue blood-smeared together to make sickening shades of violet, he could see where these...things had ripped her apart, making her body look like it had dents in it. He was vaguely reminded of how Jane looked when he’d first viewed her dead body, back when he’d first learned about the reset._

_His mother smiled, a cruel imitation of the warmth she’d given him in his early years, her once beautiful and calming voice came out in a chillingly beautiful melody._

_“Come home, baby.”_

_With her words, Emma’s puppet-like form nodded, looking like she was unable to speak with the ways her neck was angled oddly in relation to the rest of her body._

_In a horrifying tandem, his mother and Emma extended their arms out to him, beckoning for him to join their embrace of death. He shook his head as his whole body quaked under their blue gaze. Emma took a step forward, even though it resembled more of a stumble._

_She opened her mouth, her voice coming out in a quaky song, scratchy with the way she shook, trying to find stability on her broken body._

_“C’mon, Paul,” she croaked, the song making her broken voice sound beautiful, “Forever and always, right?”_

_He fell to his knees again, not willing to look up at her. He closed his eyes, trying very hard to stifle the tears that were making his head scream in agony, and his eyes sting._

_When he opened them again, he was still in the Witchwood, but the blue-blooded husks of his mother, Emma, and everyone else had left him._

_Before he had time to register that he was alone, a blood-curdling scream echoed throughout the woods._

_“_ PAUL, NO!”

_The smell of blood hit him quickly as he recognized the voice. It was Emma’s._

_“Emma!!!” He screamed out, his eyes searching for her._

_He turned to look for her and was met by a sight that made him want to vomit._

_Before him, he saw a pool of blood that seemed to cover the ground on which he was kneeling. Somehow the trees had seemed to grow more menacing as the pool of red he was in seemed to grow deeper. In spite of the panic at seeing the blood, his only thoughts went to Emma._

_The scream had been so loud and had been filled with a terror and pain that chilled him to the bone. He had to find her._

_He didn’t have to look for very long._

_Stand at the edge of the clearing, towering over him...was himself._

_He was staring at the perfect reflection of himself. Same eyes. The same lanky frame that hid a weird amount of upper body strength. Same brown hair that was a little messier than expected. He would have thought he was looking at himself, only...something wasn’t right._

_On his double’s exposed forearm, there was a very small, almost unnoticeable tattoo of the number ‘23’. Where’d that come from? He’d never gotten a tattoo before...and 23 seemed like such a random number he...he had blood covering his arms. Not only that, but clenched in his double’s shaking hand, there was a bloody kitchen knife._

_It was then that he noticed the body, lying limp in front of his clone._

_She was drenched in blood. Her face was contorted in one final expression of terror, but it was undoubtedly her._

_Emma._

_And she was dead...again. And judging from the fact that his double was the one holding the knife…_

_He’d killed her._

_He’d fucking killed her._

_He buried his face in his hands, which were now covered in her blood that stained the clearing floor, his sobs making his ribs ache. He’d killed her. He was crazy._

_Before the shock and grief could make him feel any more afraid, his double was joined by another figure. Another…_

_“Emma?” he whispered._

_It was her. But like his double, something was off. On one hand, she was looking at his double with fondness, as she walked up and took his hand in both of hers. The first Emma’s blood staining both of their arms. The two of them regarded the body of Emma in front of them, both looking at it with funny regard. As he studied the way his double and this other Emma stood there, he noticed two things that made him grow all the more confused._

_The other Emma had different colored eyes._

_One of them was her usual shade of warm brown, but the other was a dark shade of blue. Last he checked, he was pretty sure Emma didn’t have heterochromia._

_The more shocking factor was the fact that there were simple silver wedding bands on their blood-stained, entwined fingers._

_Before he could think of anything to say or do, he was grabbed from behind, two hands roughly grabbing his shoulders._

_“Save yourself, Paul,” a heavy, almost inebriated voice whispered._

_Paul whipped his head around. The blood was gone. The blood, the other him, the other Emma...and Emma’s emaciated body._

_All of it was gone._

_He whirled around to see the man most Hatchetfield citizens knew only as the Homeless Man. He was hunched over, but his height was eye-level with Paul, making sure Paul studied the man’s face, too tired and emotionally exhausted to fight back._

_It was a tired, almost crazed face, with a ratty, overgrown black mustache, greasy hair that was barely covered by a black beanie, stubble that had overgrown on his chin, and the scent of alcohol and something awful on his breath._

_But...the man’s eyes...a shade of hazel that seemed so familiar...struck him._

_He’d never actually looked the Homeless Man in the eye before, but now...now he couldn’t look away._

_Where had he seen those eyes before?_

_“Help me, Paul,” the man slurred, his voice wavering as he kept Paul looking at him._

_How did he know his name?_

_“What…How...” Paul stammered, “Who are you?”_

_The man let out a heavy sigh before stammering, “Y-you’re f-fuckin’ useless, Paul.”_

_Where had he heard that before?_

_“Help me, P-Paul,” the man stuttered, holding up a finger as he let go of him, “‘M stuck...in the box.”_

_“Wh-what box?” he asked, panic thrumming through his veins as tears from the overall confusion, “Who are -”_

_He was cut off by the sound of deranged laughter. A peal of maniacal laughter that sounded like something out of a demented children’s cartoon. The Homeless Man covered his ears with a terrified cry._

_“I’M COMING FOR YOUR ASS, TEDDY BEAR,” a thunderous, blood-chilling voice echoed throughout the woods, making the Homeless Man flinch and lurch forward, grappling at Paul._

_The Homeless Man grabbed Paul’s shoulders as a shaky whimper made its way past his lips, “Run, Paul!” he shouted, his crazed eyes growing impossibly wide, “Run before it gets you!!”_

_“Before what gets me?” Paul sobbed, feeling more confused and terrified as the sound of laughter grew in volume, “What is this?”_

_“RUN!!” the older man shrieked, “HE’S COMING!!”_

_With that, the Homeless Man began to run for the edge of the clearing. But when he reached the tree-line and attempted to step past it, he dissolved into a pile of gold dust. With that, the laughter ended, and Paul was left alone, still lost in the Witchwood._

_Paul stood there, his legs shaking, unsure of what to do. He felt so terrified. He was pretty sure he’d never been this scared in his life._

_“Okay…” was all he could think to say._

_“Okay…” he whispered through his shaky voice, tapping his clenched fists together furiously, almost as though he was smacking his hands together painfully, “Okay…okay.”_

_The word fell from his lips like a mantra. He couldn’t bring himself to run. He knew it wasn’t safe to be there, whatever he was. A small part of him knew it was his confusion and anxiety that kept him glued to his place._

_What was happening? Where was he? Why was he seeing all of this?_

_The fear gripped his bones in an icy hold. He shook where he stood._

_That's when he heard it._

_“I sent you back with a gift, Paul,” a horrifically delicate voice thundered through the Witchwood, rattling his chest, “Use it.”_

_He fell to his knees again and covered his ears. The sickening feeling making itself at home in his gut._

_“N...No…” he muttered._

_“C’mon, Paul” Apatha’s voice, accompanied by a crescendoing cacophony of songs that made him scream, echoed in his mind, “Use it.”_

_“NO!” he screamed out, curling in on himself again._

_The Blue was here. The Blue was going to claim him again. The Blue was going to take him and use him as a mindless slave of conformity. The Blue was going to make him hurt people. The Blue was-_

_“Breathe, Paul…” a soothing, wonderfully normal voice made his breath return to his lungs._

_Tentatively, he opened his eyes and realized he, mercifully, was no longer in the Witchwood._

_Instead, he was in a familiar room. The walls were painted a light blue, with a small dresser, a toy box, a bookshelf, and a small bed with navy-blue covers. The small windows had navy curtains that allowed for the remainders of the day’s light to seep through. Beneath him, was a soft shaggy rug with the image of a sailboat woven into it. He ran his fingers over it, reveling in the familiar sensation of the scratchy material beneath his palms. He’d used to love running his hands over that rug, loving the feeling of the rough but strangely material scratching at his skin._

_He sat up and studied the room, his eyes falling on two figures that were sitting on the bed._

_The first was his mother, looking healthier and happier than she had when he’d last seen her. She still had bruises running up and down her arms, from the early stages of chemotherapy, but her brown curly hair was still there, complimenting the dappling of freckles underneath her beautiful blue eyes. She was wearing a soft white sweater and ripped jeans, that were appropriate for the early fall weather. If he was right about where and_ when _exactly he was right now, she would lose her hair in the coming weeks, and then, her life in just a few weeks. The thought sickened him._

_Nestled into her side, was a tiny, scrawny boy. Minus the absence of curls and freckles, the boy looked exactly like Martina. His brown hair was slightly messy and flopped in his face, which he’d buried in his knees as he leaned against his mother. His blue eyes were red and puffy as he rocked himself slightly. His knobbly knees and thin frame betrayed an inability of his father to feed him properly, and the way that his breath was rapid and shaky signaled an early experience of anxiety. He realized just who he was looking at._

_“Paul, breathe,” his mother instructed the small boy, who was trying very hard to catch his breath as she ran comforting circles over his back._

_The much younger version of Paul shook his head and hugged himself tighter._

_“Paul, sweetheart,” his mother whispered, pressing a small kiss to his head, “I’m right here, it’s okay, you can let it out.”_

_A strangled sob came from the small boy as he nestled closer into his mother’s side._

_“Everyone ...thinks I’m weird…” he murmured, his voice wobbly as he tried to tell his mother just how he was feeling. She was the only person he’d truly felt comfortable talking about his feelings with. With others, especially at such a young age, he’d just go nonverbal- something he’d get scolded at by his teachers and father for doing. He couldn’t explain it, and as he got older, he hoped he’d never have to offer an explanation, “Mrs. Tyler thinks so…”_

_The younger version of him let out a choked-off sob before the next warbling words, came out of his mouth, “She- she thinks I’m what Dad says...I am…”_

_“What?” She asked, “What does Dad say you are?”_

_“The-” he stammered, burying his face in his knees, “The...the r-word…”_

_He’d been only a few days from his birthday when he’d gotten diagnosed with autism, but his father hadn’t been pleased when he and his mother came home with the news, which was putting it nicely._

_His mother had been understanding of it and was willing to do everything in her power to help him understand. She’d explained to him, an almost-seven-year-old, that his brain just worked differently than other people's brains did. But she never held it against him or made it seem like he was incapable of doing things that other kids his age were._

_His father, on the other hand, had screamed horrible things at both his mother and him. Paul would remember the use of the r-slur in that one-sided conversation for the rest of his life. The word became one of his father’s favorite things to use when describing his son after Paul’s mother had died, and would often be used to manipulate him as he got older. That was the primary reason why Paul had taken care of his father until he was twenty-two, as a small part of him wanted to at the very least_ appease _the part of his father that was always dissatisfied with his son._

_His father was a bad man._

_It had taken a long time for Paul to accept that and move forward and let go of his desire to gain his father’s love. His father hadn’t even_ wanted _Paul when he was born. He was pretty sure the only reason his father had even bothered to stay with his mother was for appearance reasons and money, other than that, Martina and Paul were always the last things on his father’s mind. The only reason Martina had stayed with him was for Paul alone._

_Paul always admired his mother in her ability to put up with him. In between chemo treatments, she could only work so much, and when his father had been able to hold a job, that was enough to support them enough. He was a jerk, but it was enough until she could afford to divorce him and go into remission...a dream that had never come true._

_“Did she say that to you?” His mother asked, keeping her voice gentle but her eyes betraying a sense of fury and indignance on behalf of her son._

_“She didn’t say it…” he whimpered, “But I heard it.”_

_Martina studied her son, “Did someone tell you that she said it?”_

_He shook his head, “I_ heard _her.”_

_Martina looked at her son for a moment before her eyes widened slightly._

_“She didn’t say it...but you heard her?”_

_The small boy nodded vehemently, “And the other kids...they think so too…say I’m a weirdo...” he trailed off as he cried harder._

_Martina’s eyes softened, “Paul, baby, look at me.”_

_The boy sniffled before looking up at her. She cupped his face gently and pressed a kiss to his nose, “Baby, there’s nothing wrong with you.”_

_“B-Bu-”_

_“No buts, okay? You work differently than other people. That’s all, you are_ not _a weirdo, and you most definitely are_ not _what Dad says you are.”_

_The smaller boy sniffled, “Everything is so loud, Mom...I keep hearing things…”_

_“What kinds of things, honey?” she asked, raising an eyebrow._

_The boy sniffled again and wiped at his nose, “All...all kinds of things...I know when Sam is gonna cheat on a test...or when Dad’s gonna come home angry...when you’re scared…”_

_He paused for a moment as a sad look crossed his mother’s face, almost as if he was listening for something. Horror crossed the young boy’s face, “Y-you...you think you’re gonna die?!”_

_His voice was squeaky but more terror-filled as he watched his mother’s face. Tears filled his eyes again and small hiccuping sobs left his smaller frame, leaving him shaky as he hugged himself tighter, “You can’t...no...no...don't leave...too loud.”_

_“Oh, baby,” his mother sighed, small tears filled her eyes that she tried to stifle. She hugged him close and kissed his hair, “Don’t you worry about me, okay?”_

_He looked up at her and she spoke again, “Okay?”_

_Reluctantly, he nodded, his voice sounding very small, “Okay.”_

_“Okay,” she said with a small smile, “How often does it get too loud?”_

_He wiped at his eyes again as he stared up at his mother, “All the time...even in the library.”_

_“The library?”_

_“The library,” he said with a nod, “And the store, and traffic...it’s all too loud, Mama.”_

_She looked sympathetic and ran a hand through his hair, “Well...when it gets too loud, do you know what I like to do?”_

_“What?” he looked up at her, his blue eyes that matched hers blown wide in admiration of anything his mother had to offer._

_“I like to focus on one thing...like someone's voice…” she said with a smile, “And it may be different for you, but sometimes focusing on just one thing makes all the noise go away.”_

_“It goes away?” he said in tearful awe._

_“Yep,” she smiled gently, “Sometimes it takes practice, but focusing on one thing keeps you calm...kinda like how you like saying ‘okay’, right?”_

_The small boy seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding, “It does help…”_

_“And stimming? I think that’s what it's called,” she said after considering it, “If it helps you calm down...don’t let anyone tell you to stop. As long as you’re not hurting yourself and it keeps you grounded, you keep doing it, okay?”_

_“Okay…” he whispered, “But what about focusing on one noise?”_

_“It could be anything, Paul,” she said with a smile, “Anything that helps you forget the other noise is there. It could be a clock ticking, or music…”_

_“No musicals,” he said immediately, his face scrunching up, “Too much to focus on there.”_

_“Okay, so no musicals,” she laughed, “Just find something at the moment to focus on...and everything else will drown out, okay?”_

_The boy seemed to consider this, “Okay...okay...okay...but what if my teachers don’t like it?”_

_“Then fuck them!” she said quickly before gasping and slapping a hand over her mouth._

_The younger Paul laughed, making Paul laugh from where he stood, still on the rug._

_“Hey,” Martina said, looking down at the snickering boy, who was wiping the tears from his eyes, “We don’t repeat Mommy’s bad words, right? Unless it's about Clivesdale, okay?”_

_“Okay,” the boy said through small snickers. In a small burst of movement, he burrowed into his mother's side, hugging her tight, “I love you, Mom.”_

_Martina ran a hand through her son’s hair with a small smile on her face. Instead of continuing to look down at her son, she looked up._

_Her eyes fell on Paul, making him freeze._

_She was looking right at him._

_A sad smile crossed her eyes as she didn’t look away from him._

_He felt tears well in his eyes as she continued to talk._

_“I love you, Paul,” she said gently, “And I’m proud of you.”_

_“Mom…” he whispered and she merely nodded._

_He tried to think of everything he could say to her. All the things he’d wanted to ask her when he was growing up, but as he stared at his mother, he couldn’t think of anything._

_That’s when he heard another familiar voice._

_“Paul?”_

_It was Emma’s voice...though, it sounded like it was underwater._

_“Paul, you’re dreaming! Wake up!”_

_Wake up._

_Wake up._

_Awake._

He opened his eyes and shot up in bed with a gasp, his heart pounding in his chest. His breath was ragged, and the chill of the air against his bare skin shook him. He was wearing only his boxers, having gotten back into them before he and Emma had gone to sleep. 

“Paul?” a gentle voice asked. That was when he felt gentle hands running up and down his arms and comforting circles on his back, “You okay?” 

He looked to the side, and through the thin moonlight filtering through their small window, he could make out the face of Emma. She was wearing his T-shirt and her hair was messy. Her eyes were wide as she studied him. 

He fell against her with a small cry as the horrific images came flooding back to him. Emma bleeding black blood and actually dying. The blue-stained corpses that surrounded him, taunting him. Himself and another Emma standing over Emma’s murdered corpse. The blood. The familiarity of the Homeless Man. That horrible laughter. The Blue. The slurs he grew up with as a child. His mother who was still dead.

Her arms wrapped around him as she held him tightly. She wasn’t dead...he could hear her heartbeat. Her eyes were still that gorgeous shade of brown. She was there.

Still, the thoughts and torment wrecked his mind, making his throat feel like it was made of gravel and his head pound.

He was going to be sick.

\---

After a blissful evening in Paul’s arms, followed up very quickly by some soft kisses and the cleaning up of the Ramen dishes they’d left behind on the coffee table, Emma had drifted off into a gentle sleep. The smell and warmth of Paul’s T-shirt that she had stolen from it’s abandoned place on the floor, had given her a form of comfort that allowed her to focus on rest and rest alone. 

God, she loved him so much.

They’d fallen asleep in one another's arms around eleven. She’d drifted off into a dreamless sleep that she was sure she’d wake up feeling more relaxed and joyful than she’d ever had before. 

It was two o’clock in the morning when she woke after hearing her name from him.

It sounded like a small whisper, something she could barely hear. At first, she smiled at the idea of him dreaming of her...but when it was repeated in a much more fearful and desperate tone she started to worry.

“Emma….nh...no…” he whispered, his eyes squeezing shut as if he was in pain. 

His head was shifting restlessly against the pillow, to the point at which it was getting all squished up. He was flinching, making her grow more aware of the fact that he was in distress. 

She pulled back to look at him and found that his eyes were squeezed shut, tears dripping from his eyes as he tossed and turned. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. 

“Paul?” She whispered, trying to see if she could gently wake him up.

There was no response as he mumbled more incoherent sayings under his breath, growing more desperate by the second.

She gently ran a hand up and down his arm, “Shit...Paul?”

“N-nnn n…” he whispered, before twisting over on his side.

“Paul?” She said, a little louder trying to wake him up but without startling him.

“Mom…” he murmured in response, his voice sounding distraught. 

Her heart dropped. If he was dreaming about his mother, there was never a good connotation. She remembered nights where he would wake up trying to wipe away tears from when he’d been dreaming about his mother’s death or his father’s abuse. If he was dreaming about her now…

“Paul?” she said louder, rubbing his shoulder gently still as not to frighten him, “Paul, you’re dreaming. Wake up!”

He shot up with a gasp, his blue, tear-filled eyes were wide. He was shaking and shivering, his eyes adjusting to the thin veil of light that ran over the room. 

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, trying to comfort him as he adjusted to his surroundings. 

“Paul...you okay?” 

It seemed like such a pointless question, he very obviously was not okay. But still, she felt like she had to say _something_. If her touch wasn’t enough, she had to let him know that she was there with him...in some form or fashion. 

A small, pained cry escaped him as he collapsed against her, pulling her close as he shook, warm tears soaking into her shirt. She didn’t say anything, instead opting to hold him close and kiss his hair. He never had many nightmares, but there were some occasions where he liked to be held, in spite of neither of them being much up to physical contact. 

Suddenly, he sat up, and hastily made his way off the bed. He stumbled aimlessly around the room, grappling at the small pieces of furniture until he found the bathroom door. He closed the door behind him. Once the door was shut, she heard the heavy clink of the toilet seat being opened, followed very quickly by the awful sound of Paul dry heaving. 

“Paul?” she called, keeping her tone calm as she stumbled out of bed, letting the big t-shirt fall to her knees, “I’m coming in there, okay?” 

There was no response, only the stifled sounds of sobbing. Her heart shattered at the sound as she opened the door and stepped inside quietly. 

In his haste, he hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights to the bathroom, but the light filtering through the frosted small skylight had provided him enough light to make it to the bowl and not expel whatever was left in his stomach elsewhere. The faint scent of bile made her gag, but she didn’t care when her eyes fell on Paul. 

He was hunched over, leaning his head on a cabinet that was adjacent to the toilet seat. In the cool air of the bathroom and the chill of the tiles on the floor, he was shaking, his sobs stifled as he tried desperately to control his rapid breathing. 

“Paul…” she whispered, and he flinched. 

He cracked an eye open and looked at her, an apologetic look on his face.

She shook her head and sat down beside him, gently running a hand up and down his spine. He tensed for a moment under her hand, but quickly relaxed, saying nothing. He was still shivering, and she could make out goosebumps lining up and down his arms. 

“You’re freezing...Stay here,” she whispered, “I’m gonna get you a shirt and some sweatpants.”

He didn’t move as she stood, walking hastily to the dresser and digging out what she could, being careful not to trip over the clothes that had been discarded earlier in the night and had been forgotten about as they were both exhausted. When she returned to the bathroom, he was sitting up, but his knees were drawn close to his chest. 

“Hey…” she whispered, “You wanna put these on?” 

Reluctantly he looked up at her, still not saying anything. If he’d gone nonverbal for now, that was okay, she just worried for him. How bad had the dream been? 

He reached out a shaking hand and managed to shimmy into the sweatpants clumsily, providing him some sort of protection from the chill of the tiles. She unfolded the shirt and handed it to him as he pulled it on, wrapping his arms around himself once more as he pulled it over his head. 

She opened her arms to him, and he pulled her close, resting his head on her chest, tears flowing silently as shaky breaths had him quaking against her. She ran a hand gently through his hair, trying to be mindful of his body language in case he signaled he didn’t like something she was doing, and therefore was causing more harm than actually helping. 

The silence was interrupted only by his shaky breaths and stifled sobs. She kept gently running her hand in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp, trying not to get distracted by the softness and messiness of it, trying to keep all of her focus on him. 

With the way his body was angled against hers, there was no way the positioning of his head was in any way comfortable for him. His head rested around her sternum, nestled into her chest as his long limbs were sprawled out across the floor. For a moment, she wondered if he was listening to her heartbeat.

“Okay…” she whispered gently after a moment of silence, as his breathing calmed down, “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

He shook his head gently as if not wanting to cause her any discomfort and she nodded in understanding. His eyes looked guilty. 

“That’s okay, babe,” she clarified, “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m here for you all the same, okay?”

His eyes widened slightly before nodding. 

She followed up with another question, asking him quietly as he let out a few small coughs, “Wanna just go to bed again?”

He looked up at her and nodded. It was true, he looked dreadfully exhausted from the ordeal. At first, they’d both been bone-tired (hehe) from the much more fun ordeals from earlier in the evening...now they were both exhausted from emotion and fear. 

She helped him stand and he held her hand like she was a lifeline of sorts. She didn’t mind. He was scared, clearly. Part of her didn’t want to ask about what he’d seen in his nightmares, but what mattered now was the fact that he was in need of comfort. Comfort that she was willing and able to provide. 

She sat down on the bed and opened her arms to him. Quietly and tentatively, as though he was walking on a thin layer of ice, he crawled over to her, falling gently into her arms, slightly on top of her, nestling his soft hair under her chin.

She kissed the top of his head as he resumed the position they’d been in on the bathroom floor. She momentarily contemplated saying nothing, but the words just popped into her head. 

“Paul,” she whispered, “You don’t need to talk about it, so I’m not gonna ask...but I want you to know that I am right here for you. I’ll always be right here for you, okay?” 

He gently and slowly took her hand in his and squeezed it once. Symbolizing that it was, indeed, okay. 

“I love you, Paul,” she whispered into his hair as she felt her muscles begin to relax, “Forever and always.”

At the words, he seemed to freeze slightly, making her worry that she’d said something wrong, but her fears were extinguished when he lifted her hand that was still clasped in his, intertwining the fingers and gently pressing three kisses to her knuckles. 

She looked down at him, a soft smile on her face. He looked up at her. In spite of his puffy eyes and exhausted demeanor, he was still so gentle and loving in the way he regarded her.

He made her feel loved. 

He made her feel beautiful. 

He made her happy.

Within moments, they both fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep…one another’s regular breathing lulling each other to sleep. 

Somewhere at the core of their souls, they were praying that horror wouldn’t arise in the morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Paul.  
> At least now, he and Emma are getting the hugs they've needed since chapter one.  
> Wonder what this means for them, though...
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos to let me know what you think!!!  
> Sorry that there were so many triggers embedded in this one (and in regards to Paul being autistic if I wrote anything that was ableist, incorrect, or causing any harm, please let me know so that I may remedy it as I would hate to make anyone feel uncomfortable or hurt).  
> Hopefully, the NT spoilers were easy to avoid!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and have an incredible Halloween!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	36. Revolt Against the Honor to Obey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander, June, and Tom delve deep into the Foster's heritage.  
> Then the day goes completely wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Know Your Enemy" by Green Day
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Blood, death, gunfire
> 
> This one ended up being really really long!! Sorry!!!

Reset No. 6

Date: August 25th, 2018

Being Unknown

“So, here’s the deal,” Tom said, gesturing to a holographic map that was projected in front of June and Xander, “ The anomalies around town are practically nonexistent...not that they were very common, to begin with when this whole thing started but...you get the point.”

“The data from Lex’s sensor isn’t indicating anything, Tom,” June said calmly, “I think it’s time we set up sensors around the base.”

Xander sighed and rubbed a hand against his temple. They’d been at this for four hours, looking at the data that they’d collected since Hannah had told them that they were all in the presence of an apocalyptic force without knowing it. The idea was nauseating. When Xander had walked into Beanies all those weeks ago, the last thing he’d been expecting was to gain a husband back, memories from a past lifetime, and the knowledge that the world would end regardless of how hard they tried to avoid it. It was sickening to know that they were really all just waiting to die. He’d really tried not to think about it like that, but the continuity from previous resets allowed him a little pessimism.

“We should have been doing that since Paul was infected,” Tom reasoned, “And I know that due to budget reasons, we can’t necessarily make sensors out the wazoo, but it’s still a little bit necessary.”

Xander nodded, “I’ll get Rodney on it.”

“Then there’s the matter of the Being itself,” June sighed, “There’s the chance that the ‘cheater’ that Hannah was so keen on revealing was Apatha...but she failed in infecting Paul, so…”

“So it can’t be her?” Tom asked before looking down, “It’s tough enough to know that Webby’s gone silent.”

“How do we even know that Webby is real?” June questioned, “She could just be a shared delusion...a _folie a deux_ if you know what I mean?” 

“Hannah Foster is many things, June,” Tom spoke, keeping his tone even, “But she isn’t delusional. Besides, John was _in_ the Black and White and he interacted with Webby personally.”

“That is true,” June nodded, “But how do we know we can trust her?” 

“We don’t,” Xander remarked, “When she went silent, her messages no longer reached Hannah, and therefore we don’t know her place in all of this.”

“Still...she has helped us before,” Tom recounted, “She’s the reason Hannah and Lex were able to pull John, Ethan, and Paul out of the portal.”

“Yes, but how do we know she has no designs of her own?” Xander mused, “Since she’s stopped talking to her directly, Hannah has been listening to the happenings of the Black and White on her own...she’s been hearing more, saying more, muttering prophecies that none of us will ever be able to make sense of, and yet...she knows more. It’s confusing for her, yet she’s handling it better than any of us would have.”

“She’s a powerful little thing,” June hummed, “She’s so small, and yet she knows more about these things than any of us do. Lex as well.”

“That family, in general, is supposedly powerful,” Xander nodded, “I did some digging, and if the records are right…”

“Records?” Tom quirked an eyebrow, “On the Fosters?” 

“There aren’t many records, Pamela Foster wasn’t the most responsible citizen or mother,” Xander nodded, “But what I could trace about the family is predominantly through marriages and deaths.”

“What’d you find?” Tom asked. 

“I’m glad you asked,” Xander said, pulling up what databases he could on his datapad and reading the abridged notes he could find on the Foster lineage. He’d worked for a long time after the meeting they’d had, to see if he could figure out some indicative clues regarding the nature of Hannah and Lex Foster's abilities. This was something John didn’t know about, but he would know as soon as he was sure. 

“Lex and Hannah’s mother is unmarried, and from what I know, Lex and Hannah have different fathers,” Xander said, looking down at the datapad, “So, I figured, that if their powers or connections with the Black and White are hereditary, then I would have to trace it through the women in the family, especially since there is a chain of unmarried women in their heritage.”

“How do you know that their abilities aren’t just a subject of chance?” June asked, “Like one of their ancestors just got lucky one night and slept with someone with a connection to the Black and White, and therefore popped out a baby with those abilities too.”

“Because some similar traits were examined in ancestors, too.” Xander explained, “Obviously, not Pamela, but we’re talking like great-great-grandparents.”

“Okay…” Tom nodded, “Go on.” 

Xander inhaled sharply and looked down at his datapad, the notes and document collections burned into his mind. If what he had hypothesized about the girls' heritage was true, then they were much more connected with Hatchetfield’s history than they knew.

“Pamela Foster was born in 1978, to a woman named Janice Foster. Janice had died when Pamela was twenty, and Pamela had no present father, ” Xander looked down at his notes, “Janice was born in 1956 to another unmarried woman named Kathy Foster, who had been admitted to a mental institution in 1951 once for claiming she was hearing the voice of a god.”

“So?” Tom raised an eyebrow, “People in the Bible do that all the time.”

“Yes, but not God,” Xander said, “She claimed it was a god _,_ a ‘lord in black’ if the records called it. Several people in the area thought she was suffering from female hysterics because this is the fifties and no one took anything a woman said seriously, while some people claimed she needed to be exorcised.”

“Damn,” Tom muttered. 

“Damn indeed,” Xander nodded, “It says here, that when Kathy was fifty, she was seen going into a confessional at one of the Catholic churches in Clivesdale, and the attending father suffered a complete mental breakdown less than an hour later. They tried to pin his delusions on Kathy, but she claimed it was the ‘work of her lord’. She later was subjected to a lobotomy that went south and she died shortly afterward.”

“So…” June murmured, “Kathy had a connection to the Black and White?”

“It’s safe to assume that, yes,” Xander affirmed, “Kathy was born in 1933 to a woman named Theresa Foster...who had married someone named Richard Foster”

“So that’s where the Foster name came in?” Tom asked, “How is this relevant?”

“Theresa had an older sister as well, you see,” Xander explained, “Her name was Rose. Unlike her sister, she never married, and therefore kept an altered version of her maiden name, Matthias. While Theresa never exhibited any strange behavior, her sister Rose was often seen talking to trees as a child. Some of their neighbors even thought she was a psychic due to her being able to describe their lives in intimate detail.”

“Intimate detail?” June questioned, her eyes filled with a kind of strange skepticism, “How so?” 

“Well...there’s not much information regarding this occurrence,” Xander said scrolling down to the side note he’d made for Rose Matthias, “But in 1913, their landlords, a couple by the name of Peters got a divorce. Allegedly the reason was that a ten-year-old Rose had gone up to Mr. and Mrs. Peters and asked him who ‘VW’ was and asked him why there was a green lace handkerchief in his desk drawer.”

“VW?” Tom raised an eyebrow, “What significance…”

“Let me finish,” Xander whispered, “When Mrs. Peters managed to look in her husband's desk drawer, she indeed found a handkerchief that matched Little Rose Matthias’ description. As for the mysterious, ‘VW’, those initials belonged to a neighbor of the Peters, another married woman named Vera Woodward.”

“Could have just been a coincidence…” June muttered under her breath.

Xander shook his head, “Unlikely. Though they lived in the same neighborhood, the Woodward’s and Peters were a much higher class in comparison to the Matthias family. The only reason the Peters family ever interacted with the Matthias girls was that their mother did laundry for them and lived in the servants quarters.”

Tom looked confused, “So, Rose exposes an affair? If it happened in the Peters house, then it’s not out there to…”

“To assume Rose had seen something?” Xander finished, “I thought so too, but the statement Mrs. Peters’ lawyer, Humphrey Goldstein, gave in court stated and presented evidence that Mr. Peters and Mrs. Woodward met at the establishment that would later become the Birdhouse. And that evidence was actually a confession from Mrs. Woodward herself...other than that, there was no other evidence with how careful they’d been. That and the hankie. Rose wasn’t even _allowed_ in those areas of the house. She never would have seen the hankie or interacted with Vera Woodward.”

“Okay you’ve made your point,” Tom held his hands up in surrender, “She had a connection to the Black and White. What about her and Theresa’s mother?”

“Rose and Theresa were born in 1900 and 1903 respectively to a woman named Helen Matthias, also unmarried. The records get a little flimsy here, but the name Matthias traces back to only one more Hatchetfield marriage that happened in 1835, between Cassandra Marshman and Henry Matthias.”

“So, that’s where the name Matthias comes in?” June asked, to which Xander replied with a nod, “If we’re tracing back the women in the family...then the Marshman family is the farthest back?” 

“So far,” Xander nodded, “We can assume that there’s a generation between Cassandra and Helen, but there is a connection.”

June nodded, “So...the Marshman's, What was up with them?”

“There’s not much, but looking at what records there are of Cassandra…” he bit his lip, “There are no accompanying records of any Marshman family.”

“So it starts with her?” 

“No…but I have a theory,” Xander chewed on the inside of her cheek, “Cassandra had no mother or father, she was raised by a local woodworker, someone named Thomas MacIntosh. Though, there were rumors circulating around what had happened to her mother.”

“What kind of rumors?” Tom asked.

“There were the usual ones, scandalous ones about her mother being a prostitute that died in childbirth, her being MacIntosh’s illegitimate daughter...the usual,” he sighed, “But the more popular one was the idea that her mother had been hanged as a witch.”

“A witch?”

Xander nodded, “And I have a hypothesis because I think those rumors might have some merit.”

June looked at him funny, “How so?”

“How many alleged witches were executed in Hatchetfield?” He asked, looking them up and down.

“As far as I know, there were as many as thirty,” Tom said, thinking hard, “But the majority of them were just free-thinking women...the only legitimate one that was caught doing ‘witchcraft’, was supposedly a woman called…”

“Willabella Muckwab,” Xander finished, “Hatchetfield’s famous ghost story.”

“The Muck Witch of the Witchwood?” Tom chuckled, raising an eyebrow in the universal symbol for ‘bullshit’, “Xan, that’s just a campfire story for Boy Scout troops.”

“It’s also why they call the Witchwood...well, the _Witchwood,”_ June reckoned, “Hence, it's a myth.”

“I thought so too,” Xander nodded, “But after delving deep into a few archives and hacking a few firewalls, I found a faded and worn death certificate copy. After running it through some software, I authenticated it and…”

“And…?” Tom prompted.

“It chronicles and gives credence to Willabella Ruth-Hannah Muckwab,” Xander spoke, his voice slow and deliberate, “Executed on October 31st, 1824 on charges of cavorting with the Devil.”

Silence overtook the room no one was sure what to say. The idea that Hannah and Lex were descendants of Hatchetfield’s most horrifying cryptid was extremely unsettling. It certainly explained some of the oddities in their family tree. 

“What happened to Rose’s family?” Tom asked, “You said she had used an alteration of her maiden name and moved on. Did she have any descendants?”

“I never actually checked that, but as she got older, she went by a different name,” Xander said, “Around the time Rose Matthias disappeared from the records around 1928- after she was arrested for thievery, a woman bearing almost identical records, age, demographics, etcetera, emerged who went by the name Rose-Marie Matthaeus. Marie was the middle name listed on Rose Matthias’ birth certificate, so it's easy enough to assume that she changed her name at some point.” He clicked on the small link leading to a familial tree associated with what was known about Rose Matthias/ Rose-Marie Matthaeus. 

“Ah,” he exclaimed as a line of a pedigree popped up on the screen, “Rose-Marie Matthaeus had a daughter named Tamara Matthaeus in 1930, and moved to Clivesdale in 1934 when she got a job as a laundress...much like her mother, Helen had been to the Peters. In 1950, Tamara married a man by the name of Leroy Parker, but she kept her maiden name and divorced him two years later, but not after having a daughter named Delphinium. Delphinium kept her mother's name and didn’t marry, but she had her own daughter in 1969 named Martina Molly, but by that time their last name was simplified to Matthews. Martina was placed on medication for severe anxiety when she was fifteen, but the prescription stopped by the time she reached adulthood-”

“Wait, Xander,” June interrupted, “What was the name simplified to?”

Xander looked back down at the pedigree, and his eyes widened, “Matthews…”

“Keep going.” Tom prompted, his green eyes wide.

“Martina…” Xander went on, “Martina got married to someone named Warren Peterson at age twenty, but not before she had their child...holy shit...”

He paused when his eyes fell on the final name. A name that was familiar, and now complicated a great deal of what was seen previously. This could either complicate things greatly or make much more sense.

“What, Xander?” June interjected, clearly not understanding the significance of the name.

“I…” Xander couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t even think of words to say. Some things suddenly made a lot more sense...and yet, they didn’t. 

“Martina Matthews had their child...what, Xander?” Tom attempted to prompt.

Xander inhaled and exhaled sharply, “On October eleventh, nineteen eighty-seven, a nineteen-year-old Martina Matthews had her first and only child, the first son born in their lineage for several generations…”

“What’s with the crypticism?” June spoke, getting impatient, “She had a boy in 1987...so what?” 

“I’m getting there,” Xander said impatiently, “To put it simply, the son’s name…” he paused, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth...

“His name..is Paul Jonathan Matthews.”

June and Tom froze. They glanced between one another, sharing a shell-shocked expression.

The revelation was strange.

 _Paul_ was related to Lex and Hannah?

Through that connection alone, there was a chance he too, was connected to the Black and White.

God, the implications. None of them wanted to admit how messed up the connections were. If Paul, Hannah, and Lex all were descendants of Willabella Muckwab, then it would make sense that the beings of the Black and White had favored them in their exploits. The pedigree presented records that only the females in the family had presented connections with the Black and White, but then again, Paul was the first male born into the family, so it wasn’t far out there to assume that 

“What does this-”

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

A loud, echoing sound made Xander's bones move before he could even comprehend what was happening. He looked up to the upper levels of the deserted lab, searching for any sign of a gun peeking out from the railing, or behind the servers that lined the upper levels. Where was it all coming from?

The shots continued, striking adrenaline into his heart as he scrambled to shove the files under the lab table, and he looked to his companions. 

“ _Get down!”_ June shouted, pushing Xander down under the desk before he knew to react. 

Xander glanced over to where Tom was standing, his legs rigid and locked. 

“Tom!” he shouted, “Get down!” 

But the man didn’t budge and from what Xander could see, his knuckles were white and shaking. 

“Tom-” he started, before he was interrupted by a cry of pain and a deafening bang.

BANG!! 

Tom was hit.

He hit the ground, his arm bleeding profusely.

June cursed and pulled Tom’s shaking, bleeding form under the lab table. 

“Tom!” Xander yelled, “Tom! Can you hear me?” 

“Shit,” June spat as she pulled back Tom’s sleeve and tore the material, fashioning a kind of tourniquet. Xander was barely able to hear her over the gunfire that still persisted. 

He’d not been in these sorts of situations a few times, but never before had the gunfire been so loud and so near. The marks left by the bullets that missed them, scuffed the floor, stained with Tom’s blood.

He grabbed his transponder, just in time to hear a garbled familiar voice, making his core feel shaken and empty. Fear filling his veins. 

“ _Shots fired in command! Shots fired in command! Need backup ASAP!!”_

John.

\---

John looked at the readings from the stations, taking in the information that had been gathered and analyzed. He’d been in and out of meetings all day, never getting a single moment to stop to grab a coffee with five sugars.

He’d seen Ethan and had talked about enlistment with PEIP as an intern. He’d met with Xander, talking about the missions they would plan to analyze different sources of material taken from different sites of the anomalies. He’d seen June and Tom, who was in a meeting with Xander at the moment. He’d even seen Emma and Paul in passing, even though Paul looked a little exhausted and held onto Emma’s hand with a kind of dependency, almost like he was afraid of crumbling if he’d let go. John would ask about that later, the agenda for his day was too packed for pleasantries. 

He did like having an abundance of work. Being kept busy gave him a sense of purpose and kept his mind on the things that mattered. In some ways, he and Xander were both workaholics for that reason, and that was also why a great deal of their late-night conversations were in bed while looking over and analyzing one another’s spreadsheets. Strangely, that was one of the most romantic things they did together often, and they liked that. 

He snapped out of his thoughts of his husband and instead decided to focus on the information being presented on the map. 

Xander had mentioned that he was doing some research into Hatchetfield citizens that might have had connections to the Black and White, and would bring it up at the next secret briefing that they would be having at Paul and Emma’s apartment the next evening, which would therefore be closest to the Fosters. 

In some ways, he was worried mostly about the Fosters, Paul, and Emma. 

He could only hope he was wrong about the assumption that someone in their inner circle had been corrupted. They were all good people with strong hearts and strong minds. They didn’t deserve to be put through this fear. They were powerful in ways no one could understand. 

“Sir?” the voice of Lieutenant Hall interrupted his thoughts. He turned with a sigh. 

Lieutenant Benjamin Hall was only slightly younger than John, and he was damn good at his job. He knew it too. He’d become one of Schaeffer’s right hand men within his first two months of being at PEIP and had worked up to the rank of Lieutenant around the same rate that Tom had made it to Captain. In some ways, John was sure the young man was only a mere snake, waiting to work his way up in the ranks. Of course, John’s faith in people worked over that suspicion, because Hall was, indeed, a good operative. 

In some ways, the man's appearance reminded him of the villain from a space movie they’d had playing at the small PEIP cinema, which they would open around holidays for recruits and officers to enjoy. Thin frame, slightly on the shorter end of average, mousy brown hair that was combed back. Greenish blue eyes that seemed slightly judgmental if you looked at him long enough. The similarity was also continuous in the way the man carried himself, which seemed to maintain a swagger John didn’t understand. Some would have assumed he was more of a businessman or something rather than a member of PEIP.

He’d liked that space movie, with the bugs and the allusions to the Little Mermaid, even if the romantic relationships were heteronormative. It was a musical, though, so that had made it lose points in John’s book. Xander hadn’t minded though. Still, they’d both agreed that the character of Junior Spaceclaw was eerily similar to Lieutenant Benjamin Hall. 

“Yes, Lieutenant?” 

“The updated readings from the Hidgens lab just were transmitted from analysis, sir. Major Lee worked quickly with these.”

“And?” He asked, turning to the man. 

“Like yesterday’s readings, sir,” Hall murmured apologetically, “They were pretty stagnant, no anomalies detected.”

John sighed. Another lack of evidence. He should have expected it with as many failures as they’d had in the previous few days.

Still, he maintained his composure, “Thank you, Lieutenant Hall. Please log it in.”

“Yes, sir,” Hall uttered, before turning on his heel and returning to his station.

John turned back to the map, observing the layout of the town with a keen eye. After observing several lifetimes of events that happened in the town from the Black and White, he was fairly certain he knew the town inside and out, as well as points of significance. There were, of course, the more regular and mundane locations such as Lakeside Mall and the Starlight Theater, which Wiggly and Apatha had reigned their terror down on the town. Then of course there were the places that had more Hatchetfield history and weight to them. Places like Witchwood Forest, which lined the eastern end of the island, nestled between the Hatchetfield cemetery and Oakleigh Park. 

Those woods had been filled with tales of ancient horrors and macabre tales that would make Edgar Allan Poe nervous. While some seemed more ridiculous, like the Hatchetfield Ape-Man, there were some like the mad woodsman tale surrounding Lumber Axe (Essentially Hatchetfield’s version of the Headless Horseman combined with Paul Bunyan) that left children in fear of the woods and what lurked within. There were some, however, that had historical implications, such as the tale surrounding the Witch of those woods. He could never remember her name, only that it was odd and she’d been striking fear in the hearts of small children since 1824.

He wondered whether or not the Ghost stories of the small town held any merit with them. 

A witch of the muck? 

A mad lumberjack? 

A literal ape-man? 

These stories seemed so preposterous, and yet, there were things he’d seen from the Black and White that could make them almost true. 

It was true, he’d witnessed Hidgens and a man Paul had once worked with (He was pretty sure the man’s name was...Tad? Ted?) attempting to con an English duchess into giving them money through marrying the alleged ‘ape-man’ (Paul’s coworker being completely nude, with an awful ratty beard, and acting a little more stupid than normal). He’d not stuck around to see how that train of events had ended. The last thing he’d seen was Hidgens chasing the duchess’ fiance through the woods while howling nursery rhymes at the top of his lungs. After that, he’d had no interest in discovering the man’s exploits. 

Then there was the matter of Hidgens. 

He’d been acting _completely normal._ Well, as normal as a man who’d been touched with the energies of the Black and White and had been isolated for decades. He and June had been running personal background checks on him, to the knowledge of the rest of the team. 

How the man was allowed to teach, John would never know. In spite of once being a brilliant and promising young scientist, the man had lost his driver's license, his teaching license, his license to carry, as well as anything that would indicate he existed. How he’d gone unnoticed by the government for so long was a miracle. Medical records had shown that he’d been placed on a triptan-based medication for migraines, as well as an antipsychotic and ziprasidone, shortly after his accident in 1976, but he hadn’t gotten a refill after July of 1980. Xander had suggested earlier that his eccentric behavior could be attributed to that, but the drugs were relatively specific, and should not have been discontinued without a doctor’s advisement.  
“Lieutenant?” He called, looking over to Hall’s neat and tidy station. 

The man popped up from behind the computer monitor, already standing to obey, “Yes sir?”

“Could you bring me the file HH0078, please?” he asked, “It should be at my desk.”

“Yes, s-”

_BANG! BANG!_

In a flash of red and loud cacophonous yelling, Hall was sent down, bleeding insanely fast. A bullet hole in his shoulder, perhaps in his chest. 

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

“Everyone get down!!” He shouted at the few people who remained in the command chamber. 

He grabbed his firearms and removed the safety, slinking behind a desk as he assessed the situation. He was only a few yards from where Hall had fallen. The chances that the man was still alive were slim if he’d been right about where the bullet had hit him. The room was dark, lit only by the monitors and maps that lined the walls of the room. On one hand, it gave him the chances for stealth, on the other, he would probably not find Hall _and_ a place to hide. He also hadn’t been able to see where the shots were coming from. 

Screams sounded, joining the gunshots and the noise as more and more agents fell around him, scrambling for orders as he mindlessly shouted instructions at them. Instructions that they couldn’t follow in their panic. 

Blood overtook the usual scent of coffee and whatever cleaning product they used as the shots continued. He couldn’t tell where they were coming from. If he knew where he should have been firing at, he could have fired some return shots. 

Instead, he’d grabbed his transponder. 

“Shots fired in command! Shots fired in command! Need backup ASAP!!”He shouted, hoping to whatever God existed that the transpondence network worked and someone could hear him.

God, he hoped someone was listening. The sound of the gunshots hadn’t ceased, and the moans of some of his fellow agents around him as they waited for death sounded in his ears. It was a sound he was used to, which was sad, but he wished he could at the very least provide some comfort to them. Like him, they’d given their lives to the protection of the world from the things nobody could quite understand, they’d understood that though they were mere subatomic particles in the vast expanse of the world, they were going to give their lives to keep the world from harm. They were giving their lives now. They may have understood that they were servants to the higher calling, but they were still human and deserved some kind of comfort.

He felt guilty for judging Hall in the ways that he had. The man was a decent worker and was now dying somewhere on the command floor. If John had been able to clearly see where the shooter was and where Hall was laying, he would have crawled over to pull the man to safety, but the shots seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere. Tactically, sacrificing himself was not a good call. 

Still, it was the call he made. 

He quickly crawled from his place behind one of the monitors, timing the gunshots in their slightly random pattern to make it over to where he’d last seen Hall. The smell of blood had become as prevalent as the plague, making him a little unable to distinguish where Hall was. 

He cursed as a bullet struck the monitor he was hiding behind, making a hole just mere inches from his face. He inhaled and exhaled sharply, staying as calm as he could. 

He moved quickly, rolling as fast as he could behind the next monitor, where he could make out the illuminated tactical boots belonging to a fallen soldier. 

He extended a hand out, gaining a firm grip on the boot, and pulled the body gently towards him, eliciting a pained groan from the person. As he pulled Hall to him, repositioning the wounded man so he could apply pressure to a wound that was closer to the man’s sternum than he realized. 

“S-sir…” Hall whispered, coming out painful as John applied pressure to the wound. Specks of blood dotted around the man’s lips as he coughed. 

“It's okay, soldier,” John murmured, in spite of his knowledge that it wouldn’t be okay. 

“S-sir...my wife…” Hall whispered, “M-Marian…” his words were lost in a bout of raspy, horrific coughing. 

“She’s proud of you, son,” John assured him. In the thin light, he could see the man’s eyes blown wide in fear. He smiled gently, in spite of the still-booming claps of the gunshots. 

Hall flinched, more blood pouring from between his lips, “Our...our kid...I won’t know em…”

John suddenly understood. While he was still in the Black and White, he’d witnessed June mentioning to Xander that Hall’s wife of two years was expecting their first child. At the time, he hadn’t paid much attention, but now this moment...this moment was depriving a child of their father. 

Whoever was standing at the trigger of the guilty gun was killing off fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters alike. For this, he’d make sure they’d face justice.

John smiled down at the dying man as gently as he could in light of the circumstances, “They’re proud of you too, Benjamin.”

“J-Just…” Hall stammered, more blood pouring from his lips, “Just Ben, sir…”

“Ben…” John smiled, “Ben, your wife, and child are proud of you...know that, son. They love you immeasurably, son, okay?” 

Hall smiled sadly, his breathing growing rapid and raspy, “I love ‘em...whatever they grow up to be...I love ‘em so much…”

“They’ll know, son,” John affirmed, “I promise you, they’ll know.”

Hall coughed again, lurching up in a painful spasm. John applied more pressure to the wound, his hands painted red with blood. 

Hall’s eyes widened as his breathing grew shallow and slow. 

“Mari…” he whispered, before falling silent, his green-blue eyes wide and glassy as he stared into the great beyond. 

John didn’t notice that the shots had stopped. 

Using one of his bloodstained hands, John gently closed the man’s eyes. 

“Farewell, loyal brother,” John murmured, closing his eyes in a silent prayer for his soul, “May your soul find peace on its journey.”

The crackle of his transponder interrupted his small reverence.

“ _Shots fired in labs X3 Alpha. Agent down.”_

Xander’s voice.

He was alive, but he was under siege as well? 

John's hand was shaky as he reached to press the transponder against his ear.

“ _I repeat, shots fired,”_ Xander’s voice was urgent, “ _Captain Houston is down. Requesting immediate backup and medical personnel.”_

Tom had been shot? 

Anxiety and anger flared from somewhere deep in John’s gut. 

Tom, much like Hall, was a father. He had a son who made his entire world go round. If it was serious, and Tom was killed, then Tim would be left without parents. Hadn’t the boy suffered enough? 

If it wasn’t for him, Tom wouldn’t have been dragged back into the thick of the fight. Tim wouldn’t have lived in fear of losing a father. He’d already lost his mother too early in life, he didn’t deserve to lose a father who was so devoted to keeping him safe. 

All John could feel was guilt. 

\---

“I’m tellin’ ya, Lexie,” Ethan chirped as they walked past the breakers, “Wouldn’t it be great if I was a mechanical intern for PEIP? Johnny said I’ve got the skills for it! It doesn’t have to be permanent, but it’ll give me some dough until we got enough for Cali!”

Lex smiled widely, “That’s a great idea, babe!” she looked down at Hannah, “Isn’t that a good idea, Banana?”

Hannah had been staring at the floor as they trudged along, trying to get to the cafeteria. She’d not said much all day. Instead opting to play with her hair, Marley, or draw aimless lines over her legal pad. She’d not even touched the ukulele that Lex had gotten her. 

Ethan smiled down at her, “What’s up, Hannah? You okay?” 

Hannah merely nodded, almost as if she had found the rhythm of her feet as they stepped against the floor fascinating. 

He smiled at Lex, “I trust Johnny, and he really wants to help us get to Cali!”

“Really?” Lex smiled. 

“Really.” Ethan nodded determinedly, pressing a kiss to her temple as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “We’ll be in California in no time, Babe. Promise.”  
Lex chuckled and looked down at Hannah, who was still staring down at the floor. Her brown eyes studying the floor in a confused and almost studious manner. 

Ethan knew that since Hannah had been abandoned by Webby, she was hearing a lot more. Because she’d been hearing more, there were more prophecies that didn’t make sense. While these prophecies came out in single words, they’d still been just as haunting as the ones Webby had given her. Ethan was worried all the same. 

A great part of him was angry. She was only eleven and didn’t deserve to be used as an unwilling listener to the madness of the Black and White. He’d spent long enough in the Black and White to know he never wanted to hear from it again. Of course, none of them had heard anything. The abyss of the Black and White was as silent as silent could get. The only thing Paul, John, and Ethan could hear were one another, and occasionally the echoes of the sadists of the Black and White. 

Suddenly, Hannah’s head shot up, her eyes wide. She grabbed Lex and Ethan’s hands. Desperation was in her voice when she practically shouted out. 

“ _GET DOWN!”_

“Wha-”

_BANG! BANG!_

Ethan didn’t get to finish his sentence as a terrifyingly loud boom echoed down the halls, leaving scuff marks against the walls and making some of the breakers spark and fizzle as something invaded them.

_BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!_

As if on instinct, Hannah pulled Ethan and Lex close to her. In a moment of odd strength, pulling them behind one of the many servers that they were passing by. As bullets crashed through the metal, sparks flew, making Ethan and Lex call out in fear. 

_Shit. Someone was shooting at them._

Ethan pulled a terrified Lex close to him. She wasn’t screaming, but her eyes were wide and her hands were clenched in fists. With every clash of the bullets against metal, she flinched and held onto Ethan and Hannah closer.

Surprisingly, Hannah was remaining still. Her eyes wide as Lex grappled at her, trying to keep her from the harm of the bullets that were flying around them. 

Ethan’s heart pounded in his ears as he held them close. They couldn’t stay here. If they did, something was gonna go wrong. They would be shot like rats in a cage. 

He cursed, not that he could hear himself over the sound of gunfire. He really wished he’d decided to set up a transponder that morning. That way he could have called for help. Instead, he could only look for a quick and safe way to get them out. 

He tried to scoot to the side, loosening his grip to see if he could find a way to safely keep them moving, but Hannah held him fast. 

“Stay here,” she muttered, her eyes remaining stagnant as she stared him down, “Stay still.”

He looked from Lex’s hopeless face as she desperately looked for something that would help them to Hannah, who was staring directly at him, remaining eerily calm in the face of this danger. He looked to Lex again. God, he couldn’t lose them. He’d just gotten them back. He would never forgive himself if something happened to them. 

In spite of all of his instincts yelling at him to get them out of there, he decided to trust Hannah and hold the two girls close. 

And so, he waited for the gunshots to stop. 

Praying he didn’t have to die a second time. 

\---

Paul smiled at Emma over a small sandwich he’d managed to stomach for their lunch break. 

He’d felt numb for the most part all morning. Unwilling to let go of Emma in the wake of the nightmares he’d had. After she’d pulled him back into bed, he’d curled up with her and held onto her tightly. The multiple images of her being dead in several different forms and fashions haunted his memory. The blue, broken marionette. The black blood. The murdered woman while he stood over her, holding the bloody knife. They all made him shudder.

When they’d woken up, they’d been extremely slow to get out of bed and get ready for the day. They’d stayed in bed for an extra fifteen minutes, snuggling and recovering from the shock of his late-night panic. 

While they both had been used to one another experiencing nightmares due to trauma from childhood, they’d never seen one of them being driven to _throwing up._

Part of him felt so pathetic. 

So weak.

The memory of his asshole of a father screamed at him in his mind, calling him a wuss, a pathetic worm, unworthy of being his son. 

Emma had been patient though, as per usual, making the memories of his father, and the images from his dreams seep away. He hadn’t said anything after waking up from the nightmare and wouldn’t say anything until later that morning. Still, she’d been understanding and helped 

The dream had started out with the bliss he’d felt while he’d been with her in multiple senses of the word. He’d felt at home, at peace, and that peace was stolen so quickly, he’d had no choice but to be dragged along for the horror show. He could only watch, playing the part of a captive audience as several horrors of his subconscious waged their wars upon him. 

He couldn’t make sense of it.

Usually, the nightmares would have faded into vague images by the time he was fully awake, and yet this one...he could remember it as if he was remembering a film. 

Of course, he’d had nightmares as a child. Nightmares that his father would have punished him for, while his mother...his mother…

That had been another aspect of the dream that puzzled him. 

When his mother had first appeared to him in the dream, she’d been under the influence of the Blue. Not that she ever got that chance, he knew with a bitter twist in his heart. She’d died so young and so long ago, her body was likely a mere pile of dust within a coffin. Buried six feet below, lost in a sea of faded names forever etched into stone. 

Not a day went by when he didn’t miss his mother. 

When she had been a day away from dying, she’d told him that he would have to learn to put one foot in front of the other. He’d not been able to understand that so early on, but it made much more sense than his father's philosophy of ‘being a man’. He wished he’d gotten to really know her. He wished she’d gotten to know him as he grew up. 

That memory of that night, just weeks before she’d rapidly declined and passed, was one of the few he’d merged somewhere in the deep files of his brain. The majority of what his brain had managed to quantify from her advice was focusing, as well as the memory of her embrace. What he didn’t remember was the fact that he’d apparently been... _hearing things_ as a child _._

He was pretty sure he was just an imaginative child. That seemed more likely. Still...his mother had seemed so...unsurprised by it. 

Why had it struck him as so odd? 

Something with the memory didn’t sit right. He was sure that the actual conduct of the memory was accurate (if the memory of his seven-year-old-self could be trusted).

“Earth to nerd,” Emma’s voice pushed through his thoughts, her tone light, and teasing, “Come in, Paul.” 

He looked up at her. She had picked out a small, watery tomato soup and burnt grilled cheese (which she was fairly certain it wasn’t even cheese) from the cafeteria that day, figuring that it was a ‘comfort food day’ no matter how shitty the food was. Because of this, a smudge of yellow cheese was smeared over the corner of her lip as she peered over at him, her eyebrow raised. 

God, she was beautiful.

In addition to wearing her lunch over her makeup, she was wearing a dark green sweater and some baggy, high-waisted pants, which were appropriate for her work in the lab. She was still wearing her lab coat, which was still slightly big on her since Xander had yet to order a new one that would fit her, and her hair was up in a messy bun that she would redo later in order to prevent getting her hair in the samples she would be testing. Her nose had a small red marking from where lab goggles had been placed over her eyes for the majority of the morning, completing the look and inadvertently made her look like her nose was scrunched up. 

In spite of his waking her up in the unholy hours of the morning, she’d been understanding and gracious, helping him work through it and process it in the ways he’d needed. Once again, he was reminded of how unworthy he was of her. 

“I’m here, Houston,” He smiled, as he set down the sandwich carefully on the lunch tray.

She smiled, “What’re you thinking about?” 

He inhaled and exhaled and merely shrugged. 

What hadn’t he been thinking about? 

When she’d managed to convince him to come back to bed, he’d listened to her heartbeat to fall asleep. It was a minor thing, he knew, but the assurance that she was alive and he was in her arms was something he needed. He’d been so exhausted at that point, he’d slipped into sleep easily, her heartbeat serving as a lullaby he didn’t know he needed. 

Most of the morning had passed in silence, as they got ready for their respective jobs as they always had in their mundane lives. Few words were exchanged, which wasn’t unusual. They knew one another well enough not to need words. They’d set off for work hand-in-hand, and separated for their separate wings easy enough. Sure, he’d checked the clock every five seconds to see if it was time for their lunch breaks, but he’d done well enough in finishing the work he needed to get done. The mundanity of the day, however, had led him to think about the dream. It seemed so strange. It was a dream, after all, but there was so much... _truth_ in it. 

When the time came for their combined lunch breaks, he’d not wanted to eat anything, but he knew he would worry Emma if he didn’t so he tried to stomach what he could. He’d picked a tuna sandwich and had managed a few bites, swallowing them whole rather than chewing and tasting the fish itself. It wasn’t necessarily eating...but it was consuming food, which was better than nothing he figured. 

“That’s not an answer, buddy,” she quipped, taking another bite out of her sandwich. 

“It’s all I got, sorry, Houston,” he smirked before taking a sip of his water, “Did anything interesting happen in the lab?” 

She shook her head, “Unless you count Potter being yelled at by Xander for bringing a breakfast sandwich into the lab, then not much happened.”

“Food’s not allowed in the lab?”

Her eyes widened, “Have you seen how much _shit_ we work with in there?” her words were incredulous, “Food equals contagion and-”

Her voice faded to nothingness as he heard something that sounded vaguely like whispering, drowning Emma out. 

At first, the noise was faint, but as time went on, it resembled more desperate words. Desperate pleas and cries that echoed in his ears. 

“ _Please! Someone help me!!! I’m in here!!! Please!!!”_

The voice was familiar, but raw, almost like the person had been pleading and crying for hours. 

His heart pounded. It was real. It was a person’s voice. Did he know that voice? Why couldn’t he place it? Why couldn’t he see where it was coming from?

He turned to Emma, the voice still pleading in the back of his mind. 

“Do you hear that?” he asked, whipping his head around to see if he could see where it was coming from. 

_“Please!!! Anybody!! I’m in here!!”_

Emma raised an eyebrow, her expression mildly concerned, “Hear what?” 

Suddenly, it was gone. The small corner of the cafeteria they occupied was quiet once more. They’d picked it specifically because no one ever sat there, nestled in the small alcove. 

The voice had to have been real...hadn’t it?

He shook his head. He was exhausted and tired, and hearing things he wasn’t supposed to be, “Nothing...you were-”

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Emma’s eyes widened and she jumped up, knocking her soup to the floor. Before Paul could comprehend what the noise was, she grabbed his arm and pulled him from his seat, diving under the table and attempting to pull him with her. 

_BANG! BANG!_

Gunfire. 

A hole was formed in the wall behind his head and he suddenly realized with a sickening lurch in his stomach that the bullets were aimed towards him and Emma. 

In a moment of panic, he nestled his awkwardly long and gangly limbs under the small table, wrapping his arms around Emma as she covered her head. 

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

With every threatening shot, Emma flinched and curled closer into him. He was shaking as he held her close. He could hear messages being shouted over his transponder, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He only cared about keeping Emma and himself safe. 

Emma grabbed at his shirt, pulling him close, her eyes squeezed shut as the gunfire roared overhead. Anxiety thrummed in his veins, making him go numb as his heart rivaled the volume of the shots. 

“Ah _FUCK_!” Emma screamed out, making his veins turn to ice, curling in on herself and clutching her calf. 

In the cramped space, Paul could only see so much, but the shade of crimson that was dripping from her leg was unmistakable. 

“Emma!” He yelled out, holding her closer. 

Emma groaned, “It just clipped me, ‘m fine…”

He didn’t believe it, but he was trying very hard to keep a handle on his breathing. He felt like his heart was going to pop out of his chest as he breathed raggedly, the sounds of gunfire were too loud. 

Too much. 

Too loud. 

_Focus, Paul._

His mother's voice from his dreams echoed in his ears. 

_Focus. Drown everything else out._

But what? 

Emma pulled him closer to her with a pained grunt, her eyes squeezed shut as she withstood the pain. Her hands, although desperately grasping around his neck were still...warm and gentle.

Her warmth. 

He wrapped his arms around her, flinching with every loud bang of the bullets flying around them. He would hold her close, whether the bullets got them or not. Focusing on Emma and Emma alone. 

Focusing on her warmth alone pulled him through the end of the rage of the bullets, and it sustained him long after the operatives and backup found them under the table. 

\---

“John!” Xander breathed in relief as he ran into the blood-soaked command center. 

John turned and caught his husband in his arms, holding him tightly. They were both able to feel the pounding of one another’s heartbeat as they held one another, the adrenaline of the experience, and their survival releasing itself. The carnage had ended a little over half an hour before after similar bullets were discovered in several different locations all over the base. After assuring Dr. Kirk and Becky that he was fine, Xander had rushed as quickly as he could to get back to John. Although he’d heard his voice over the transponder, he needed to see his husband unharmed. He needed to make sure he was okay. 

Xander pulled back and cupped John’s jaw, looking into his eyes to ignore the numerous body bags and wounded people being taken out of the command center, “Are you okay?”

John managed an exhausted nod, “You?”

“I’m fine,” Xander breathed, trying to avoid looking at the carnage. 

“How’s Tom?” John’s voice was rough, trying to conceal his fear surrounding Tom’s condition, Xander could tell

Xander nodded, “The bullet clipped him really close, but Schaeffer got him to Kirk, and she was on it really quick. He’ll be agitated but he’ll live.”

“What about the others? Paul and Emma? The Fosters? Hidgens?” John asked, his eyes slightly wide. 

Xander nodded, “Backup found the Foster girls and Ethan hiding behind the servers after the gunfire stopped, all of them were shaken, but unharmed,” he explained, “Hidgens, Rodney, and Callie were found barricading themselves in the storeroom, bullets everywhere, but no one was harmed.”

“What about Paul and Emma?” John asked, “They were on their lunch break, right?”

Xander nodded, “Emma was clipped in the leg, but she’s fine. They got her to Becky, who fixed her up quickly. Paul needed oxygen. He didn’t realize he was refraining from breathing properly until he ended up on the floor. Both are really shaken, but they’ll be okay.”

John exhaled in a kind of relieved sigh as he turned away, rubbing at his eyes as he surveyed the damage. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Xander asked, placing a hand gently on John’s shoulder, squeezing once to let him know they could talk about it now.

John turned around and took Xander’s hand in his own, squeezing twice.

Their signal for ‘later’. It was that bad. 

As he stared at his husband’s face, Xander was able to make out repressed anger and sadness in his husband's gaze. 

“Hall’s dead, Xander.” 

“Shit.”

June was fond of Hall. She’d called him a ‘damn good field agent’ and a future colonel if he was lucky. The fact that he’d be taken from PEIP’s services so quickly by death…

And last he’d heard, he’d been expecting a child with his wife, hadn’t he?

Anger flared in his gut. 

“Who could have-”

“Sirs?” one of the response team members interrupted his sentence, “You better come see this.”

John and Xander followed the operative to the far corner, where two body bags were being lifted from the floor to be transported to the morgue. Xander said a silent prayer for them as they followed the operative. 

When they reached the corner, the team member gestured a gloved hand at the wall, “This wasn’t here when we first got here, sirs.”

John's eyes widened as his eyes fell on the object of their focus.

“You’re sure this wasn’t here beforehand?” 

“No, sir.”

“And nobody on your team could have done this?”

“No sir, this ain’t blood...in fact, we’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Get an analyst, cryptography specialist, and a photographer in here.”

“Yes sir.”

Before them, written on the wall in some sort of silver mercury-like substance, were the words belonging to what might have been a poem. 

To Xander and John, who reached for one another’s hands, as well as the rest of the world, it could have meant damnation. 

_It’s time to decide who will be saved._

_Who do you trust?_

_Who do you betray?_

_Will you live to see tomorrow or die another day?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that was a lot longer than I meant it to be, but I couldn't shut up about lineage.  
> So...Paul, Hannah, and Lex are all related.  
> Wonder what's going on with Paul?  
> RIP to Lieutenant Hall, who was played by Brian Holden in my mind, if you couldn't tell.  
> Hopefully, the message on the wall doesn't cause problems. 
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos to let me know what you think if you would like!!  
> I hope you guys have a fantastic day (in spite of the fearfulness and controversy of today in particular when it comes to elections).  
> (Side update-from phone) Also, my computer crashed after I uploaded this, and is now refusing to work for me so it may be a while before the next chapter comes out. Hopefully it’s an easy fix and we can get right back where we left off but it may take a while.
> 
> As always, I appreciate you guys very much, and thank you so much for reading!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	37. Struggling to Face what can Never be Faced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the shooting passes in a blur.  
> Xander explains some new information.  
> John doesn't know which steps to take.  
> Paul thinks he's losing his mind.  
> Everyone is scared and confused.
> 
> Expect loads of self-indulgent Paulkins fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name for this chapter comes from the song "They're only Human" from Death Note the musical. 
> 
> I AM SO SORRY!! THIS IS PROBABLY THE LONGEST CHAPTER I'VE WRITTEN!!!

Reset No. 6

Date: August 25th, 2018

Being Unknown

“You’re doing great, Emma,” Becky smiled up at her as she tied off another suture in her leg, “Just a few more left.”

Emma grunted in pain, holding Paul’s hand. Her leg, in spite of sustaining a minor flesh wound, felt like it was on fire. To add insult to injury, she was cramping, and she couldn’t stop shaking after the events of earlier. The adrenaline was releasing itself in the ways that she quaked and held back tears, even after the response team had found them in the cafeteria alcove, and coaxed them out from under the table. She’d cried enough for two lifetimes in the past few weeks alone, and she was determined not to let Becky see her release the anxieties and let loose the tears that stung the back of her eyes. No doubt she would have a headache later from trying to prevent it.

Paul held her hand as he sat beside her on the table, holding an oxygen mask to his face. After the response team had managed to disentangle them from one another, he had hit the ground after holding his breath for far too long, the panic trying to render him paralyzed and static. He’d refused to leave Emma’s side when she’d gotten him awake, and the two of them received assistance there together. 

She would never admit it, but when the gunfire had started she’d been so sure that they’d both be dead within minutes, which is why she made sure she held onto him as tightly as she could. She could only think of Jane, what her last moments would have been like. Tom said her death was instantaneous, not a lingering death. She wondered, if the bullets had claimed her and Paul’s lives, would they die instantly? Or would they be forced to choke on their own blood as lead entered their body, waiting to fall into oblivion or the next life. 

Luckily, that hadn’t been the case and they both lived. And minus an extremely painful and annoying bullet graze that had made itself at home on her left calf, and his hyperventilation, they were relatively unharmed. 

Becky tied off and clipped the last suture, dropping the tools onto the tray she’d brought with her. Expertly, she picked up the appropriate bandages and padding, and made quick work to cover the wound and ensure it was appropriately covered before looking up at her with a smile.

“Alright, you’re all set, Emma,” She chirped, as she doffed her gloves and moved over to the small sink to wash her hands,“You should make an effort to stay off of that leg to avoid tearing the sutures, and wash it twice daily, but gently with clean water. We can get you some crutches, if you would like?”

“That would be great, Becky, thanks,” she said, keeping her voice monotonous, the shock of the day's events settling into her mind, “How’s Tom doing?” 

Becky’s face wavered slightly at the mention of the name, “Dr. Kirk was tending to his injury, but from what I hear he’ll be fine. Tim was allowed in to see him, and he’s set for a discharge today.”

Emma nodded in thanks as Paul squeezed her hand comfortingly. She’d seen so many body bags being moved from the infirmary to the morgue when she and Paul had been escorted there, it didn’t take long to deduce that several other areas had been under siege. She’d seen Hannah, Lex, and Ethan getting checked out, which had made her heart sink. Whoever was responsible for the gunfire, they’d shot at _kids._ Maybe it was the fact that she had grown fond of those three, but she was fucking furious that anybody would even attempt to take their lives.

Then, of course, she’d seen a bleeding and unconscious Tom being tended to by Dr. Kirk, and she’d feared the worst. Becky had assured her that it was only a graze, much like her leg injury, but her anxiety didn’t wane. She’d been relieved to know that Tim was safely nestled away in the apartment complex rec center, where agents had gotten him to safety and away from any potential hotspots for gunfire. At the very least, Tim was okay, and as far as she knew, mostly blissfully ignorant of what had transpired- at least while it was going on.

They’d given Paul oxygen and let him stay with her while Becky cleaned up and tended to her leg, but it was clear that PEIP was badly shaken. 

She hoped other people she knew were not in those black, thick body bags. She hadn’t seen Xander or John yet, nor had she seen some of the Lab techs she’d come to tolerate over the past few weeks. She had seen Hidgens, who’d informed her that the lab had been under siege as well, but assured her that at the very least Callie Watson and Callum Rodney were okay. 

She was worried about Paul, for the most part. She tried not to be a hover-girlfriend and overreact to the events of the night before. But those nightmares and this? It was very clearly a lot for Paul to handle. Not that she thought he couldn’t handle it, she just didn’t want him to feel like he had to handle it alone. 

For a moment, when he’d passed out after the response team found them, she worried that he’d been hit with a bullet and she’d not even noticed. She was worried that she’d have to watch him be stolen away again. But he hadn’t, thankfully. He just needed some oxygen to ward off the hyperventilation and panic. While that still wasn’t necessarily ideal, it was better than her having to fear him losing his life. 

Becky smiled and stood, “I’m gonna go see if I can examine anyone else and help out, okay? You two stay here, and if you need me, just press the call button.”

Paul removed the mask from his face with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Thanks, Becky.”

Emma nodded in concurrence, “Thank you.”

“I mean it guys,” Becky whispered gently, “Anything at all.”

With that, and another warm smile, Becky picked up her small tray and exited the curtained-off room, closing the curtain behind her. 

Emma squeezed Paul’s hand gently, not minding the fact that his palms were sweaty and clammy. That was to be expected when circumstances were as grave as they were. Gently, she leaned her head down on his shoulder, feeling the way his bones shook, still in shock from the events of earlier. He’d already been in a bad enough state when the day had begun, but the siege hadn’t made it any better. If anything, it had dragged him deeper into the pit of fear that left him wordless at two o’clock in the morning. 

Paul leaned his head against hers, his respiratory rate seemingly calming down as he melted into her touch. 

They said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. They both had seen and been through so much in twelve hours alone, and suddenly, the danger they’d been warned about _the day before_ , was much closer than before. 

What had they done? 

She couldn’t think of anything she and Paul had done to make the universe hate them. Previous resets, according to John, had at the very least proven that the world hated them in some way...or at the very least the beings from the Black and White hated them. 

She’d tried to avoid thinking of how many people had been killed in the siege. The several faces and names she’d passed in the hallway that had died today. Guilt clawed at her heart. In some ways she felt responsible. She and Paul had been warned, they just didn’t know that an attack would be so soon. 

Maybe the attack had been something completely unrelated to them. She knew that it was unlikely and just wishful thinking, especially since PEIP had only been doing research before, and the anomalies they were facing were extremely dangerous. 

Paul broke silence tentatively, “This is a lot, Em.”

She nodded, revelling in the softness of his shirt, “Mhm.”

“I saw my mom in my dream last night.”

She looked up at him, keeping her gaze soft and gentle,“I know...you murmured her name in your sleep.” 

He exhaled quickly through the nose, “I saw so many fucked up things, last night, Em...and they all seemed so real...now _this..._ ”

“Hey,” she cupped his jaw and leaned her forehead against his, “We’re okay, everyone we care about is okay. Dreams are just dreams, Paul.”

He didn’t seem convinced, his eyes fell to the grey blanket on which they sat, his hands aimlessly fiddling with one another, “I had to watch you die again...three times actually.”

“Paul…” she hated that he had to see that, in dreams and reality.

“We’re fighting something that’s so strong, Em…” his voice was growing anxious, his breathing growing faster, “...something we can’t comprehend...if whatever’s targeting us, and now the others, is responsible…”

“Then we do what we have to, in order to survive,” she said as she cupped his jaw gently, “But if you want to draw back I understand-”

“No! No, Emma, I don’t want to leave,” he sighed, “It’s just...there’s so much at play here...I think I might be losing my mind.”

She quirked an eyebrow, this was new, “Losing your mind? How so?” 

“I keep...” he hesitated, looking almost ashamed, “I keep hearing things...stuff I’m pretty sure no one has said.”

She looked up at him, confused, “What...what do you mean?” 

“Nevermind, it’s stupid,” he stammered, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Paul,” she said, looking him dead in the eye, “Nothing thats bothering you is stupid...while I doon’t think you’re losing your mind, I’m always here to listen. You know that.”

He sighed and looked down, looking unsure of himself, “Well…” he started hesitantly, “I think I’m hearing things.”

She quirked an eyebrow, “Hearing things...like...suspicious things?”

He shook his head, “Like, hearing things that aren’t there...that are unspoken.”

She remembered the moments before the shooting started. He’d asked her if she’d heard anything, with a strange and concerned look on his face...almost thoughtful. She hadn’t heard anything of course, as she’d been starving all day and was focused on eating the odd-tasting comfort food she’d grabbed from the cafeteria. What did he mean by that?

“What-” she paused, trying to not sound doubtful or judgemental of him, “What kind of things?”

“Well…” he sputtered, doubting himself, his eyes were wide as he looked away from her, “I thought I heard someone yelling for help...just before the shooting started...and it sounded familiar...not something I could imagine, right? But you couldn’t hear it, and we were getting shot at later...so…I mean it used to…” he paused, looking like he was hesitant to speak, “It was just...freaky...how fucked up is that?”

She didn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been hearing things as a result of the trauma they’d been through in the past. Then again, the circumstances they’d been thrown into weren’t necessarily normal. She never wanted to make any assumptions about his mental state. 

He _wasn’t_ crazy, though. He was probably the most sane person he’d been 

He shook his head and looked down, “You know what? I’m probably just tired...it’s been a long day.”

“Paul…” she whispered, setting a hand on his shoulder, “If something like this is bothering you, you can tell me. Whether or not you want to tell me about this is up to you...but you never have to be afraid of judgement from me...unless it’s completely stupid and you need a reality check.”

He chuckled and leaned his head against her shoulder as she kept talking, “Today has just been...real fucky, huh?” 

He nodded, “I don’t know if I’ve ever been that scared in my life, Em,” His hand went to her thigh, gently rubbing over it, “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” she asked, gently squeezing his hand again.

“Just…” he trailed off, “Everything...this morning...and-” his eyes went to her bandaged calf and she knew what he was thinking. She sighed, prepared to use his words against him.

“Paul, an annoying nerd once told me... you can’t blame yourself for stuff that’s out of your control,” he chuckled and nestled closer, “The fucked-up calf is on the bastards that attacked us...and your nightmares are most definitely _not_ your fault.”

He sighed through his nose and said nothing, just staring down at the blanket again. She sighed. She knew he had the tendency to get guilty easily. There was a part of him that _needed_ to be in control of situations, to fix them. Everything about where they were was uncharted territory, and it was scary. He wasn’t the type to guilt himself or overly apologize for the sake of verbal assurances. 

“Hey,” she nudged him and he looked up at her, “We’re gonna kick the apocalypse’s ass, okay?” 

He chuckled, “Okay, Em.”

“I’m serious, man,” she said, her tone sardonic, “The apocalypse can’t kill a bad bitch like me, I don’t care what the past resets say.”

“I believe it,” he muttered, “The apocalypse will just show up, catch a mere glimpse of you and turn on it’s heel.”

“Damn straight.”

He laughed into her shoulder, pressing a light kiss against it. After a moment, he whispered into her shirt, “I love you, Em…”

“I love you too.”

In spite of how many times they’d said it to one another since he’d come back, it never felt like she could say it enough. After losing him time and time again, she’d found herself growing extremely sappy when she looked at him. She could never get enough of those soft blue eyes and that crooked, wide grin. She was terrified of losing him again, but they both knew that the battle they’d been fighting across the vast expanse of lifetimes was important. 

She never thought about the future before him. In spite of all the shit she’d been put through while growing up, and her life in Guatemala, she’d been living predominantly on impulse. She wasn’t stupid, or would risk herself unnecessarily, but her life until she’d met him was predominantly based upon living in moments of rashness. Then Jane died and she found herself setting foot in a town she’d sworn she’d never see again. Then, soon after, a nerd who liked black coffees and routines had made his way into her heart. Now, when she looked at him, all she could see was every small eternity she wanted with him. She still didn’t want the checklist Jane had when she was growing up, but being around Paul promised her an adventure she wanted to work towards, secret paths that would lead her to places she’d never imagined for herself. 

He sat up and cupped her jaw gently, taking the initiative to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

She rolled her eyes and pulled on the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to meet her lips. His lips felt like what she imagined magic would have felt like. Every single goddamn time. She admired this man, who could unravel her stiff, bad-bitch personality in a single glance to reveal the butterflies and softness so few were privy to. 

They could have died today. They both knew it. In some ways, they were nowhere near out of the woods. Both of them knew it. 

Still, she couldn’t imagine a better person to face the apocalypse. 

A sharp cough interrupted them, causing them both to draw back hastily and blush. 

In front of them stood Colonel Schaeffer, her eyes steely in spite of their blushing and awkwardness around the woman. 

“We’re having a briefing in Tom’s room. Ten minutes. Be there.”

With that, the woman turned on her heel, not even bothering to close the curtain as Becky had. 

Paul still looked anxious as he looked down at her. She took his hand in hers again, squeezing gently. He smiled warmly at her as he stood, holding out an arm to offer her a human crutch in spite of the pain in her leg. She willingly took his free arm as he pulled the small oxygen tank along with him, the both of them walking arm-in-arm to where they’d seen Tom being treated earlier. 

Every step she took hurt. Her leg felt sore from the pain medications the nurses had given her, but every step was just a little more bearable when he was there with her. 

“Hey,” she whispered when she was certain that they were out of earshot of the nurses, “Forever and always, right?” 

He smiled bigger, the signs of fatigue and anxiety from the hours prior seeming nonexistent as he gazed at her. 

“Forever and always.”

\---

“John, what the hell was that?” Tom’s agitated voice came from the hospital bed. 

John whirled around to look at the man, whose arm was heavily bandaged and placed in a sling. His eyes were wide with something that seemed to be a healthy mixture of anxiety and anger. 

John didn’t have an answer for him. 

He wished he did, but he didn’t.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, Tom,” he said patiently, “June and Xander are gathering everyone up, and we’ll discuss what we know from there.”

Tom snorted, “It just came out of nowhere, John. Shit like that doesn’t just _happen_.”

“I know, Tom.”

“And...God, the total body count was twenty?” 

“Twenty-three.”

“Fuck,” Tom fell back against the pillows, hissing at the added pressure onto his shoulder, “They fired on Ethan, Hannah, and Lex, John. They shot at _children._ ”

“We prefer young adults,” Ethan chimed in, his voice slightly strained as he, Lex, and Hannah filed into the room, Ethan holding onto the girls with a gentle, but firm hold. Lex’s eyes were wide as held onto her sister, staring into nothingness. The girl seemed aimless, almost as if the shock of the earlier events hadn’t quite worn off. 

Tom’s eyes softened as his gaze fell on the three, seemingly forgetting about the pain in his arm, “You guys okay?”

“Not really…” Ethan muttered, “We’ll live though...how about you, Mr. Houston?” 

Tom just looked down at his shoulder, not wanting to shrug to induce any more pain in his arm than there already was, “I’ll live.”

Ethan nodded and looked down at his shoes, not really sure what else to say. 

Xander entered the room, making John’s shoulders suddenly feel lighter. 

“June’s just rounding up Paul and Emma, and then we can begin,” he nodded at Ethan and the Fosters as he entered, “Hopefully, _someone_ has an idea of what the hell happened.”

John was, much to his own chagrin and absolute fury, clueless.

The operative teams did a complete security sweep and found absolutely nothing to indicate the presence of active shooters within the base. In addition to that, the cameras had captured nothing, other than the bullets flying and slaughtering agents left and right.

It had to be an interdimensional being. There was no other explanation. 

Hannah had been right when she’d said the apocalypse was there. He just had been too blind. 

He’d ignored his own advice and had not been vigilant enough, now twenty-three agents were dead and twelve more were injured. 

Just ten minutes before, he’d met Mrs. Hall in the infirmary waiting room and informed her that her husband had been killed in the slaughter. 

The woman, an attractive, dark-haired woman who was presumably six months pregnant had collapsed into June, holding onto anything she could as a means of providing stability as the grief rained down upon her. He did what he could to offer her his condolences, but he knew it would never make up for the loss of her husband. 

The fury that filled his veins, the injustice he felt that her child would never know their father, was unlike anything he ever felt before.

At the base of it all, he just felt shame. 

Shame that he couldn’t have been the leader these people needed to survive. Shame that he hadn’t been able to prevent the tragedy from occurring. Shame that he could only sit there and watch as Lieutenant Hall took his last breath. 

Still, sometimes that was the way of being a General. He’d learned early on that he couldn’t save everyone. All he could do was hope that he could be the best version of himself and try and prevent crises like this. 

That didn’t make the shame and guilt go away. 

Xander placed a hand on his shoulder, wordlessly acknowledging his pain. In some ways, they didn’t need words to know that the other one was hurting. They would unpack that later, thugh, there were more pressing matters to deal with.

Paul and Emma walked in a few moments later, arm-in-arm, as always. Emma was limping slightly and using Paul for support, while Paul wheeled behind him a small oxygen tank, should he need it later on. They were holding onto one another in a manner that made it obvious neither one of them had any intention of letting go.

Xander gestured to one of the side couches for them to take their place at, as a means of keeping Emma off of her injured leg. John couldn’t imagine what would have happened if Emma had been killed during the siege. They’d probably be facing a new reset, with no knowledge of what was coming their way. He never wanted this for them. In some ways the promise of a tomorrow suddenly became something that seemed so finite. 

Hannah smiled slightly at Emma and pointed at her leg, “Okay?”

Emma nodded with a tired smile, still holding onto Paul’s hand, “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Scary,” the eleven-year-old nodded, her dark eyes filled with a pensive pool of thought as she took in the surroundings.

“Yeah,” Emma nodded, looking up at Lex and Ethan as if she was scanning them for injuries, “You guys are okay though?”

Ethan nodded, his eyes exhausted, “Scared shitless, but we ain’t hurt or anything.”

Becky entered the room, her eyes filled with a small amount of fear and pain as she took in the anguish that seemed to be growing underneath everyone’s skin. She turned to Xander, “We’re just waiting on June to get back, right?”

John nodded, “Yes...Kam and Phillipa have enough to work with right now when it comes to the activity in the infirmary, so it’ll just be us.”

Becky looked down before her eyes fell on Tom, who had gone slightly pink. John and Xander shared a slightly incredulous look, both of them acknowledging how stupid their reluctance to admit their feelings was. 

“How’s Tim?” Becky asked, looking at him, almost as if she was unsure of what to say.

Tom nodded a little too quickly for it to be an appropriate response, “He’s...he’s okay. He was a little freaked out, but June took him to the rec room to distract him while we get this over with.”

“He didn’t see any of the bodies, did he?” Emma piped up, her eyes betraying her usually steely and reserved manner to reveal an immense amount of concern for her nephew. 

Tom shook his head, “I don’t think so, but he knows what happened so I’m not sure how good that is. I’m just happy he was safe during it.”

Everyone nodded in agreement as an awkward silence overtook the room. No one wanted to acknowledge the events that had occurred, in spite of the inevitability of their doing so. The only noises were the small beeps of monitors and cries of pain that were ever so audible through the doors that blocked off Tom’s room from the rest of the infirmary. John could only watch as more injured agents were rolled in and out of different wards, praying silently that the casualties wouldn’t rise in number. 

Needless to say, he was pissed. 

When he’d warned Paul of the dangers that they would possibly be facing in the future, he had no idea that the dangers would be so boldly knocking on their door so soon. To be honest, he felt like no one would have been able to predict that, which is what made the situation more terrifying than anything he’d ever seen before. He’d known that he’d be dealing with something unprecedented, ever since he’d left the Black and White he’d known it was an inescapable fact. But he’d never expected a massacre. 

June entered the room, smiling slightly at Tom, “Tim’s all set up in the game room, he’s playing Connect-Four with Rodney until we get this finished.”

Tom nodded in thanks as June shut the door and drew the blinds, as if to prevent any of them from being interrupted. 

“Now,” June turned on her heel, “Why don’t we all have a seat, because we’re gonna have one hell of a heyday trying to figure out what the ever-flying FUCK, happened today.”

Xander nodded grimly, “It just came out of nowhere. One moment, we’re all discussing some new evidence, and the next, all hell breaks loose.”

John turned to Ethan, Hannah, and Lex, who’d sat on another small sofa, nestled together in their exhaustion, “Why don’t you tell us what happened with you when the shooting started?” 

Ethan snorted humorlessly, “We were trying to get to the...Cafeteria?” He looked at Lex for confirmation, and she merely nodded, “Yeah, we were going to grab some food and I was talking about our meeting earlier and plans for the future, everything was fine…”

The boy trailed off and stared into the distance, “Hannah wasn’t saying much, so we just figured she wasn’t up for talking, when all of the sudden-”

“She just shouted ‘get down’,” Lex interrupted, her eyes wide, “Like...screamed it, and before we knew it, she was pulling E and I behind a server we had passed by and the shooting started.”

Ethan nodded, “Everything after that is a blur, Johnny,” his eyes were sad as he held Hannah and Lex closer, “All I could do was hope to God we wouldn’t get shot.”

“And we weren’t,” Lex assured Ethan comfortingly, before her eyes widened and the panic made itself more evident, “But that doesn’t make it any better, and...I mean...where the _fuck_ did that come from? We could have fucking died! Other people _died!_ ” 

John pushed away thoughts of Lieutenant Hall as Ethan went on, wiping away at his eyes as his voice shook. 

“We didn’t even realize it was over until the G.I. Joe’s were comin’, yellin’ for anybody that was near. Hannah told us it was okay, and they came and helped us….but, _holy shit_ , Johnny…” his ice blue eyes were wide and filled with tears as Lex rubbed a hand comfortingly up and down his leather-clad arm. In some ways John understood the message that Ethan wasn’t verbally conveying. In his eyes, John could read the unspoken message of ‘I was afraid I’d die again’ as clear as he could read English. He could tell that this fear went beyond the paranoia of his own death, however. Ethan had been with Lex and Hannah, two of the most important people in his life. If he lost Lex or Hannah, he would have been broken beyond imagination, and John didn’t want to think about what would have happened if both of them had been lost. 

John admired the three kids greatly. They’d been through such a horrific ordeal and yet they managed to keep themselves together in a certain manner. Still, the look on Ethans face...the visceral pain and fear cut into John’s veins. Just this morning, they’d been talking about his potentially joining PEIP as a mechanic intern, as a means of financially supporting him, Lex and Hannah until they had enough to fulfill Lex’s dreams of going to California. He’d also made plans to take Lex on as a command intern, but after the day’s events, he wasn’t so certain. On one hand, he was happy that they’d survived, but they were also still young adults who were desperate to find their place in the world. They didn’t deserve to lose their lives before they found out their purpose in the world. 

Tom let out something that sounded like a hoarse cough, snapping John back to reality, “John, I think June , Xan, and I have some important information to share…”

Xanders eyes widened, as if he was suddenly remembering something extremely important. John’s heart picked up speed. That was the look Xander only got when he’d found something out that was both shocking and horrifying, all at once. It vaguely reminded him of an old woman who’d learned something scandalous about her neighbor. 

Xander nodded, “It’s very important, John, so if you don’t mind…”

“By all means, Xander,” he nodded encouragingly, eager to hear whatever new information his husband could offer. In a world of uncertainty, even the smallest amount of information would be helpful, “Go on.”

Xander clapped his hands together, “As some of you know, I was looking into some of Hatchetfield’s history determine whether or not there was any historical evidence that could point us in the right direction of what we should be expecting, correct?”

Everyone nodded slightly before Xander went on, his voice urgent and slightly excited, “Well, you should know that I also took the liberty of looking into the lineage of the Foster girls, as a means of determining if their extraordinary abilities were hereditary.”

“Whoa,” Ethan held up his hands, his tired eyes very obviously trying to make sense of Xander’s big vocabulary, “You did what now?” 

Xander sighed, not unkindly, but understandingly as he rephrased, “I essentially looked into the Foster family, to see if their powers are genetic.”

“Oh…” Ethan nodded in understanding before his eyes widened, “You did what?!”

Xander ignored thim and looked at Lex and Hannah, who seemed very small at that moment, “Did your mother ever mention anything about your family?” 

Hannah shook her head and Lex answered croakily, “She only told us not to ask. To be honest, we didn’t care. Our Grandma died before either of us were born, and given how Pam is…” she trailed off like it was obvious, “We really couldn’t care less about where we’d come from.”

Xander nodded in understanding, “Well, there’s no easy way to say this, Lex and Hannah, but your connection to the Black and Whote is indeed something we can trace through several generations of your family.”

“How’d you get these records?” Lex asked, “I’m pretty sure our mom never even got us properly registered for anything.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Xander nodded, “And to be honest a whole lot of it is a lot to take in, so if you want me to stop, just tell me.”

When he was met with only silence he went on, “According to what records we managed to retrieve, your great-grandmother, Kathleen Foster, and one of your great aunts, Rose Matthias, both exhibited traits similar to the traits exhibited by both Foster girls, but on a weaker level. “

Lex seemed speechless for a moment, unsure of what to say, “So...two people in our family...from like fifty years ago showed signs of having abilities like us?” 

Xander nodded, “Do you have any other family that you know of?”

Hnnah said nothing while her sister shook her head, “If we do, our mom never spoke of them.”

“One,” Hannah whispered. 

Lex raised an eyebrow, “N-No...I’m pretty sure we don’t have any…”

“One,” she repeated, “Distant.”

Xander looked from June to Tom, silently conveying a message that John couldn’t quite understand. Tom looked at Hannah, “How distant?”

“Two branches,” she spoke calmly, “1900s. Two sisters, not one...like Lexi and me.”

Xander nodded, “For the most part, we found that your family consisted of single women with a chain of daughters, which was a commonality until we got to the early nineteen hundreds in which Rose and Theresa Matthias were born. Theresa went on to become Theresa Foster, while Rose changed her maiden name to a derivative of it, Matthaeus. Because of this, a family that up until that point had been a single chain of families with single daughters that lived to adulthood. When these two sisters started their own families in Hatchetfield, the family tree grew another branch that quickly lost track of one another.”

“Rose went on to have a daughter, Tamara, who had a daughter named Delphinium, but by then, their surname had been simplified,” Xander explained, producing his datapad from his obnoxiously large pockets that he insisted his uniform have, “Delphinium had her daughter in 1969, following in the footsteps of the relatives that rarely acknowledged one another, as an unmarried woman, she named her daughter Martina.”

At the sound of the name, Paul froze, his eyes going wide and his body rigid. Emma glanced between Paul and Xander, looking noticeably confused, as though she too, recognized the name.

“What does this have to do with anything, Xander?” John asked, unsure of where his husband was going with this new stream of information, looking over to gauge Paul’s reaction. 

“Because these two girls have one surviving relative, as distant as they may be, they’re still blood, and it might explain what’s going on,” Xander explained, casting a apologetic glance over at Paul, “Paul, if you want to step out, you can…”

“No…” The man muttered, his blue eyes wide as he clutched Emma’s hand tighter, her eyes looking over him in a comforting gaze, “I need to know.”

Xander nodded and continued, “Martina married a man by the name of Warren Peterson in 1989, but not until after she’d had their child in 1987...a healthy boy...the first known boy born to a person of her family…” he turned to Paul, an apology in his gaze, “She named him Paul.”

Paul looked down, his hands shaking as Emma ran a hand comfortingly up and down his back, her eyes filled with an emotion John couldn’t quite read. Hannah smiled and nodded, looking up at Lex whose eyes were wide, but...calculating with some things he couldn’t understand. 

“Wait…” Ethan held up a hand, “So...Lex and Hannah...Paul’s their cousin?” 

Xander nodded, “Yes, but I’m afraid the family history doesn’t stop being interesting there-”

“Wait,” Becky spoke, holding up a hand, “Warren Peterson’s your father?” 

“Was.” Paul croaked bitterly, still staring at the ground.

“My...um…” she stammered, her face growing red and embarrassed, “My ex-husband...Stanley...his last name was Peterson-”

Paul nodded in understanding, “Yep, that would be my father’s nephew...and he was just as much of an asshole as my dad was,” he looked up with a sad look in his eyes, “I’m sorry you ever had to know him.”

Becky smiled sadly, “Me too.”  
There was a moment of silence between Becky and Paul, almost as if they were acknowledging something that had hurt them in the past. John took note of the way Paul didn’t use the word ‘cousin’ when describing Becky’s ex. In some ways, in spite of their not taking on the name of Peterson, by marriage or by birth, Paul and Becky had borne the weight of a toxic family...and if what Xander was saying about Paul’s mother was true, the other side was deep in with the forces of the Black and White. 

“If you don’t mind my asking, Paul,” Xander started, “What happened to your mother...you don’t have to answer if you don’t-”

“Um…” Paul looked up, seemingly done with all the new information he was receiving, he held up his arms in a weak exasperated gesture, “She...um...died when I was seven. Ovarian cancer.”  
Xander’s face fell, “Oh, I’m sorry…”

Paul shook his head as it fell into his hands. John felt sorry for the man. In just a few short hours, he’d feared for his life, realized his family had more to it that left him predisposed to the Black and White, and if the brief glimpse John had caught of him that morning was any indication, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. The man certainly was stronger than anyone gave him credit for. 

“Is there any chance that he’s like us, then?” Lex asked, looking over at Paul, “Is he connected to the Black and White?”

“He is connected,” Xander affirmed, “But whether or not he has abilities like you do, I’m not sure.

He looked over to Paul, who looked _very_ done with the briefing as a whole. Paul merely shrugged as an answer, very obviously at a loss for words. Emma, on the other hand, looked like she had many things she wanted to say, but couldn’t quite decide on what. Instead she and Paul just stared at the ground, focusing on processing the onslaught of new information that had been revealed in the span of ten brutal minutes.

“I’m gonna continue if that’s alright,” Xander said, looking around and receiving weak and exhausted nods from the motley crew.

John chuckled. When Xander was on a roll, he was on a _roll._ The unprofessional side of him found it very hot. 

“Before Rose and Theresa split the family into two separate branches, however, we were able to find a continuous trail of single women with single-daughter households, and we managed to trace it back to a woman named Cassandra Marshman. However, there were no records for any family members that went by that name in Hatchetfield around this time. As Cassandra was raised by a friend of her mothers, there were several rumors going around, surrounding her family...but the most popular one was the story that her mother had been hanged as a witch when she was ten years old. “

“Xander, what are you saying?” John asked, feeling very perplexed at this new information.

“What I’m saying,” Xander said carefully, a gleam in his eye, “Is that after I managed to look through the death certificates of some of the women who were executed as witches around this time, and the legitimate claims that they’d been ‘communing with the devil’, as well as comparing that with the timeline of Cassandra Marshman’s life, I came to the conclusion that Cassandra had changed her name in order to escape what persecution she could when it came to the matter of her mother...changing her name from Muckwab to Marshman.”

“Muckwab?” Emma looked incredulous, “You mean like the fuckin’ witch from the ghost stories?” 

“Not a ghost story, I’m afraid,” Xander said calmly, “Willabella Muckwab, was one of the best kept secrets of Hatchetfield, forever memorialized in ghost stories and campfire tales, but after digging deep, I managed to find...this.” 

Xander held up his datapad to reveal a scan of something that looked very much like an old death certificate. 

“At first, I thought I was looking at a fake, but after running it through a couple programs, the ink was authenticated and the age of the paper was made clear,” Xander spoke assuredly, also very hot in John’s unprofessional side of his brain, “This is indeed the death certificate of one Willabella Muckwab, executed in 1824 for witchcraft.” 

“What proof is there that she was a witch?” Emma snorted, her eyebrows drawn ehigh on her forehead, “How do we know she just wasn’t a fuckin’...free thinking woman...or could read?” 

Xander shook his head with a light chuckle, “There aren’t many concrete records, but some people claimed that she’d been the cause for a store riot, in which several members of the existing Hatchetfield community killed one another over a small green talisman that she supposedly made, with no reason other than they ‘needed’ it.”

John looked over at Ethan, just to see his eyes grow wide in horror. The familiarity of the situation was astonishing. Ethan shared a horrified glance with Paul and murmured something that sounded vaguely like ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ under his breath as he held on tighter to Lex and Hannah.

“Willabella was executed a week later, she pled guilty to the crime, with pride, according to one of the dew people who dared document the trial,” Xander went on, “She went to the noose swearing allegiance to her ‘Lords in Black’.”

John froze.

Lords in Black? 

As far as he knew, the Beings of the Black and White didn’t go by that name. Of course, they probably went by many names, but if this was new…

“So..” Lex interrupted his thoughts, “Hannah, Paul and I are supposedly related to a witch that was executed in 1820-whatever?” 

Xander nodded, “Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid it appears that way.”

Lex nodded, “And that’s why Hannah and I can...do things with the Black and White that others can’t?” 

Xander nodded once more, “Yes, that is my hypothesis.”

“Do you think that’s why all of us are being targeted?” Emma piped up, her brown eyes wide, “The Black and White is trying to get to them to use their powers? Manipulate them to their advantage?”

John shook his head, “As Hannah said, the apocalypse is already here, but they're being very smart about where to strike. Today was a warning. A warning to prevent us from fighting back.” 

“Yes, but what I mean is why would the attackers hit the areas we specifically were at that moment,” she gestured to her leg, “If they’re so powerful, they could have killed us right then and there, but they didn’t.”

John was taken aback. Why hadn't he considered that? 

It was true, with as many people that had been killed in the command center and labs, he and his companions should have been killed. There was no physical evidence left behind other than a shit-Tom of bullet casings, blood, and the message. It had to be the work of whatever Being that had decided to wreak havoc on their lives, right? There was no indication that a person or persons unknown had been there, to begin with.

So why take the time to attack at all? What benefit would it bring them? Other than killing people who weren’t even informed about the circumstances under which they were operating, the only thing their attacker had managed to accomplish was…

“They’re trying to confuse us,” he murmured.

Xander raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean, John?”

John whirled around to look at June, “How quickly can you run a diagnostics test on all information databases?”

“Diagnostics?” June raised an eyebrow, “What are you thinking?”

John looked at Xander, whose eyes widened as if he was understanding where he was heading with this.

“He thinks the shooting was a diversion,” Xander whispered, “That the attacker was trying to keep us occupied while they stole something from us...but what? And why?”

The real question was, what couldn’t they steal? Everything at PEIP was of value when it came to the information they’d gathered over these anomalies. 

But Emma has a point. If they were trying to eliminate the people involved, why hadn’t they done it already? It was a miracle that none of the bullets in the command center had hit him, but the guilt would weigh on his conscience for the rest of his life. 

He had to assume there was something they were after. Something they needed to give them an upper hand… but the fact that _all of them_ were still alive made no sense. 

“The drama.” Paul muttered, looking up, his eyes going wide.

“What?” John turned to him.

“Didn’t you- Um nevermind…” the man stammered, looking uncertain and almost...frightened. Of what, however, John couldn’t tell, “I was just thinking about...y’know...what Emma said about us...not being killed and the message…”

He trailed off before looking up again, like he was coming to a resolute conclusion, “But if they are trying to get something from us and kill us...why bother leaving a message that doesn’t make much sense? I mean...the only answer I can think of is for the...this is going to sound so stupid,” he ran a hand through his hair, “...is for the drama of it all.”

Tom snorted, making Becky and Emma shoot him matching looks that screamed ‘don’t be a dick’, he stifled his lack of humor before speaking, “You're saying that whatever we’re dealing with killed twenty-three people just for the heck of it?”

Paul looked down, “Well...I mean...think about the other resets we’ve seen,” he looked up at John and Ethan, “Nora and Zoey could have killed Emma long before I found her at Beanies, why didn’t they? Why didn’t Mr. Davidson just rip my guts out when he called me to his office...or the Greenpeace girls for that matter...they had endless opportunities to win me over and over again and yet, they let me -an anxious office worker- get so far as to bring a grenade to their front door. Why would they do that unless they wanted entertainment?”

“What the fuck are you talking-“ Tom started before Ethan interrupted.

“Past resets, Mr. Houston,” Ethan said bluntly before turning to Paul, “I mean, to them it is a game…”

“Yeah, but I think we keep forgetting that,” Paul pointed out, “To them, we’re their source of entertainment. So, _of course_ , they’re gonna make big unprecedented moves like this all so they can watch us scramble around like ants in a chalk circle. They want us confused, but they also want to keep their apocalypse entertaining.”

Lex snorted humorlessly, “That’s so fucked up...we’re literally their favorite reality show.”

Paul nodded, “Yeah...it’s something like that...and they still want to watch us suffer…” he paused so he could look at Emma, his gaze turning more and more fearful, as he realized the implications of what he was saying, “We’re still alive because they have something worse in store.”

John looked at Xander, his eyes widening, “He’s right...the power these beings exhibit...they could be preparing to kill us right now and we’d all be none the wiser.”

“So how do we stop it?” Ethan asked, his eyes whipping around, “We...can stop it...right, Johnny?”

John couldn’t give him an honest answer, which broke his heart. In some ways the knowledge that they were all trying aimlessly to fight off a force that had revealed itself so quickly and had wiped out twenty-three of some of the most dedicated and intelligent men and women who had devoted their lives to defending the world. He, the person they’d trusted enough to be their leader and he’d failed to be aware enough to prevent disasters.

“I…”

\---

“You okay?” 

Paul turned to smile at Emma, who was seated on the edge of the bathtub, brushing her teeth, toothpaste dangerously close to dripping out of her mouth. Her words were garbled, even as she leaned over to spit what was in her mouth to the sink adjacent to the tub.

Paul smiled at the sight. With as fucked-up as the day had been, somehow Emma had managed to be his sunshine in it all. 

She must have noticed the slight fondness in his gaze, because she rolled her eyes playfully, “I’ll restate the question...are you okay?”

He didn’t know the answer to that. Between having nightmares of the worst kind the night before, thinking he was hearing things, getting shot at while on a lunch break, seeing Emma get shot, passing out after panicking to the degree oxygen was needed, and then finding out that he was the descendant of a witch that may or may not have condemned him to a life of being connected with the Black and White forever, he was exhausted. 

“I mean…” he started, unsure of how to answer as he rinsed both of their toothbrushes before putting them in the small cup by the faucet, “I guess I’m as okay as I can be…?” 

It was a bad answer, he knew, but it was the only one he could think of. He was okay, he was pretty sure, he was with Emma, which made everything better instantly. He was NOT in the Black and White. Neither of them were dead, which was definitely a bonus. But everything that had been added to his world in the day alone had made everything seem so daunting. 

She nodded, “That’s fair...I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t though.”

“Why?” he quirked an eyebrow as he helped her stand up, trying to keep her off of her damaged leg. 

She chuckled dryly, as though the answer was obvious, “Paul, I thought we’d seen bad days at Beanies when people would bitch over a lack of soy milk, but this…” she clucked her tongue, “This is probably the shittiest of shitty days that I’ve ever seen.”

“This coming from the girl who kept seizing and dying just a month ago?” 

“Hey! I was asleep for most of that!” she countered as she sat down on the soft comforter of their bed, “Besides, I’m not the one who was _actually_ dead.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged as he sat down beside her, “But you did _die,_ as brief as it was.” 

She said nothing, instead just shaking her head with a soft, tired grin. 

They stared at one another for a moment, as if they were unsure of what they should say. To neither his nor her surprise, she spoke first. 

“Today was...a lot, Paul.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled without humor, “No shit.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking down and fiddling with her hands. 

He was confused, “What for?” 

“I mean...it’s nothing _I_ did, per se,” she sighed, “But everything today...and this morning...and what they said about your mom’s family...I could just tell it was a lot… and I’m sorry for that.”

He inhaled and exhaled. He still hadn’t processed this new information. His mom hadn’t told him much about her family. Only she had a mom she lost contact with when she became pregnant with him. 

_“And good riddance, too!”_ she’d laughed, “ _There was always something with those people...I love my mother, Paul, I do...but if she couldn’t love you like I already did, then I didn’t want a conversation with her.”_

Paul wondered now whether or not the ‘somethings’ that were always going on with his mother’s family had anything to do with the Black and White. 

He sighed deeply and ran a hand through his disheveled hair, “It’s okay.”

She nodded, wrapping an arm around his torso and leaning her head on his shoulder, comforting and soft, “Okay...but it’s also okay if it’s not okay...you know that, right?”

He understood just what it was she was trying to tell him. Neither of them were very good at discussing matters with which they were both uncomfortable. Still, they did it. They were the kind of people who didn’t just place their problems on the top shelf like a cookie jar, and wait for the moment the jar would fall and crack open. 

He smiled down at her as she looked adorable in his t-shirt and a pair of lounge shorts. Her messy brown waves of hair cascading over her shoulders and framing her gorgeous face.

God, she was amazing.

In some ways he always felt more at ease around her. Always looser, more comfortable. He felt like he could discuss anything with her...even if it was messy or uncomfortable. It wasn’t that she pried or poked at the nasty parts of his day just to get an answer from him, she was just easy to talk to...and he felt safe discussing things that kinda sucked to talk about. After all, she was the first one he’d been willing to talk to about his dad...the bastard he’d been to him as he grew up. She was the first person, besides Bill, who he’d been comfortable enough to talk about his mother and the diagnosis he received before she’d died.

In spite of every messy part of their shared lives, neither of them had passed an ungracious judgement on one another. They didn’t care about the scars that marred their memory. They didn’t even care about the physical scars...literally, she’d kissed the new ones on his back so gently, treating them as if they were a new intriguing part of a book she hoped to memorize, the night before everything had gone to shit. He blushed at the memory. 

“Is this your way of trying to get me to talk about it?” he asked, looking back down at her with a soft expression. 

“Not unless you want to…” she said as she suddenly scooted back on the bed to lean against the pillows, he followed her, “If it’s too much, I get it, but we can’t just _not_ talk about it.”

He pulled back the covers, allowing her to scoot underneath the cool, crisp sheets, careful to ensure her leg didn’t get caught, “I know.”

He moved underneath the sheets, snuggling close to her and revelling in her being _her_. In some ways, just being with her made everything alright. 

“I was so fucking scared, Emma,” he murmured as he curled himself around her, laying back against the pillows, “Last night and during the shooting.”

She nodded and nestled into his chest more, egging him onward. 

“Now I’m apparently...related to a witch?” He said, “And Lex and Hannah...which isn’t bad, but it’s kinda weird...and John doesn’t know what to do, so its scary knowing that we literally know _nothing_ about ”

“Hey!” She nudged him, “Being related to a witch is cool!”

“Not when she might have had some dirty dealings with the beings of the Black and White, Em,” he reasoned with a soft chuckle, “But before tonight I thought my moms family was just a bunch of...I don’t know...Polish or Danish immigrants who came here in the forties or something like that. I didn’t expect my family history to be the fucking _Crucible.”_

She nestled her head into his shoulder, biting on her lip as though she was hesitant about what she might say next, “Do you think you might be like Hannah or Lex?”

He honestly didn’t know what to say to that.

He’d had a pretty normal childhood, he was sure. Minus his asshole of a father, he’d never had any imaginary friends or could pull random things from mid-air. Sure, he was always a very good listener, but that didn’t mean anything. 

But…

He _had_ been hearing things lately. Hadn’t he?

First John in the information department, then that screaming and begging before the shooting started, and then John said something about confusion and Emma’s train of thought in the infirmary, hadn’t he? There were several times where he had been certain that someone was talking and he provided an answer, only to receive strange looks.

He pushed these thoughts away. 

No, Paul Matthews was not in possession of any extraordinary abilities.

“No,” he shook his head, “I’ll leave the power thing to them.”

She smiled slightly, her eyes looking contemplative. Her face fell, “We could have died today, Paul.”

“Mhm.” 

It was the truth, as brutal as it was. The day seemed to last years long when he thought about it’s events. It seemed like the nightmare he’d been having had never truly ended. 

“To be honest,” she started, biting down on her lip, “This is scary as fuck.”

She was right, as per usual. As obvious of a remark as it seemed, the truth behind it bore more weight with it. After losing one another time and time again, the idea of losing each other again was a reality neither of them wanted to face, or even get close to acknowledging again. 

He nodded, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer to him, “Well…” he didn’t really know what else to say to that, “At least we’re together.”

She punched him softly in the chest, “Fuckin’ sap.”

“Hey, I’m _your_ fuckin’ sap.”

“Yeah you are.” 

“And...I mean,” he tried to find a bright side in spite of the situation’s weight, “At least we have some idea of what to expect now...I guess?” 

It was a long shot. To be honest, if John, as their leader, didn’t have any idea what they were supposed to expect, then none of them knew which direction they were supposed to take. Emma and Xander hadn’t found anything physical or anomaly-wise that would give the slightest indication that something from the Black and White had ever been there. Even worse, if a being from the Black and White was involved, _nobody_ knew how to stop it. Then, of course there was the fact that nobody knew who the ‘cheater’ Hannah had gone on and on about was, and if that was a completely _different_ being from the Black and White, then they were screwed. 

She sat up, leaning on an elbow that was jammed painfully into his collarbone, her eyes serious, “Paul...I know neither of us want to step away from the investigation...we can’t...but we also need to think about what we should do when it does hit...full-force.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I mean…” she fell back down, “I don’t know...I just…”

She closed her eyes and sighed, as if the words that seemed to be on the tip of her tongue bore a bitter and unpleasant taste, “I trust John and Xander… and Tom, but I don’t know if I want to be with PEIP when the apocalypse hits, you know? Something just...doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, legitimately confused. 

“I mean…” she looked down, “John’s a general, and yet we’re meeting in each other’s apartments...because we have to be discrete.”

She shook her head, “Think about it, in an organization that few people know exists, that should give an indication of how many people he actually trusts, right?” she sat up, looking a little bit more anxious, “And...he warned us that he thought someone within our extremely small group might have been corrupted...if that’s true...then I want us both to stay alive as much as possible...I can’t-”

She sighed, her hands falling limply down into her lap, her eyes not meeting his, “I can’t risk...losing you…” the words had faded into mumbling but he heard it, “And I don’t care how sappy that fucking sounds...but I can’t. Not again.”

He inhaled and exhaled sharply. He knew where she was coming from. In some ways, the way they’d been meeting under the guise of game nights had been weird. In spite of having the utmost faith in the human heart and human spirit, John wasn’t the most trusting man. They’d done it to avoid Hidgens’ keen eyes, of course, but there was still an element of oddness to it. If John was a General, whose business was it that certain people were excluded from such meetings while others weren’t. He assumed it was primarily because up until that point, the majority of the group had been involved deeply, but had also been civilians. 

When he and Emma had made the agreement to join the investigation with positions at PEIP (official or not), they’d known the risks. They wanted to see an end to the seemingly endless cycle of life and death that had torn them from one another over and over again. They’d accepted, so that that pain could be avoided. But now that the options for survival or resistance weren’t looking right, it made sense that an escape plan was forming in her mind

“Are you…talking about abandonment?” 

She shook her head, “No! Nothing like that…” She sighed and looked down, seemingly very interested in the skin on her fingers, “I just…need to know that whatever happens...we need to stay together…”

This shocked him. 

Did she doubt that?

He would admit that things looked bleak. Regardless of whether or not they wanted it to, the apocalypse was coming, and it was coming faster than either of them would have liked it to. But in spite of this, he never had any intention of leaving her. Especially when the apocalypse was considered. 

She buried her face in her hands, “Sorry, that was stupid,” she started to pull herself back under the covers, “Lets just go to sleep…”

“Em...” he whispered, sitting up and pulling her back into his arms, she sighed and leaned into his embrace, “Look at me...please?” 

With a sigh, she looked up at him, her brown eyes filled with uncertainty.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply, not entirely sure of whether or not what he had to say would provide any comfort, “I’m not leaving you. As long as you want me around, I will stay. I’m not going to leave you, all apocalypses be damned.”

She nodded, opening her mouth to speak, but he beat her to the chase, “I will say it as many times as I have to. I know the future’s supposed to be...fucking crazy…”

She chuckled into his shoulder, “Understatement of the fucking year.”

“I’m serious, Em,” he smiled, “You didn’t get a receipt for me...therefore you can’t give me back.”

She laughed at that, a wonderful sound he would never get tired of. 

“Hey,” he cupped her jaw, tilting her head up to look at him, “I mean it.”

“I know,” She smiled, a warm, affectionate look on her face, “And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give into all this sappy bullshit...I just…”

“I know, you don’t need to explain,” he murmured, “I’m scared too.”

She sighed before looking back up at him, her usual teasing grin crossing her face, “Well...that was enough emotion for one…” she paused, as if trying to find the right word, “...Lifetime.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaning over to switch off his bedside lamp, “Lets just go to sleep?”

She nodded as they leaned back, pulling the covers over one another, still in one another’s arms, “I’ll just sleep for the next century, if it's all the same to you.”

“I could live with that,” He muttered into her hair as she turned away from him on her side. He pulled her back to his front in a gentle embrace as sleep tugged at his eyelids, suddenly feeling like they were weighed down by lead, “Love you, Em.”

“Love you too, nerd,” she whispered. 

Within moments, she was breathing lightly, passed out. He smiled at the sound of her breathing, it was like a lullaby, gentle and rhythmatic, he could have gotten lost in the sound-

_“Help!”_

He froze, every muscle going rigid. 

It was that same voice again. 

The raspy, desperate cries for help. 

_“Please! Someone! Help me!”_

He squeezed his eyes shut, hiding his face in the back of Emma’s neck. He wasn’t hearing anything. He was just tired. There were no voices, he was just exhausted and needed sleep. His brain wasn’t working right. It was a trick of the exhaustion and adrenaline of the day. 

“ _Please! Anybody! I’m stuck!!!”_ the voice continued to echo in his ears, growing louder and more clear, “ _Please...I have a family! Let me go!!”_

He nestled his head closer into the pillow, focusing on the softness and the warmth coming from Emma, helping him drown it out. Menrall, he was begging the fearful noise to go away…

...until he heard two names from it, the voice clearer and more recognizable than it had ever been before.

_“Hannah!?! Ethan?!”_

His breath stopped as he recognized the voice. There was no mistaking it. 

Lex.

\---

Hidgens muttered angrily as he rubbed away at the black marks and dents left in the lab tables by the bullets that had rained down upon him and the laboratory staff earlier on in the day, as if they would go away. 

The room was still littered with bullet casings and shattered glass. Dried blood had not been cleaned up yet, and samples and files had been destroyed in the carnage. 

_Did you really have to wreck the whole lab?_ He thought angrily.

“ _A small sacrifice, little one,”_ the voice whispered back, _“Things can be replaced, and there's less suspicion on you now. You’re welcome.”_

 _I suppose that’s true,_ he responded, sighing, _I just hope we got what we needed._

_“Ask the puppet.”_

He turned and saw the rigid figure of Lex Foster, her eyes filled with silver and fire. She stood straight, as though she were a doll waiting to be selected by a child. 

“Have you got them?” he asked, too worn out by the day’s ordeal to be polite, or smile wickedly, as had become their custom. 

The shell of Lex nodded slowly, holding both her hands out, the fists clenched tightly as if beckoning him to choose one. 

He nodded at her right hand and it fell open, revealing a black, generic hard-drive. He smiled at the sight. It had been extremely convenient that Lex had been near the servers when the attack had happened. She would have been there either way at one point, the attack just gave her the perfect chance to retrieve what they needed. 

“Excellent,” he grinned, “And the other?”

As if she was playing a game, her other extended hand opened, revealing a small, but sleek and sharp, black knife. 

He smiled again, the exhaustion from what they’d been through earlier seeping away with his excitement. 

They had what they needed now. 

He could have laughed with how wonderful and easy it was. 

All the puzzle pieces were falling together. 

As his grin grew in malice, the voice gave him a single word which made his heart soar with excitement.

“ _Soon._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG!!!
> 
> Wonder what's up with Paul...at least he's got Emma, who'll kick the apocalypse's ass if needed (The election's taking forever, so here's some self-indulgent Paulkins fluff as a distraction).  
> Hope John's okay.  
> Also...Lex?  
> Hidgens do be making evil plans though. 
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you would like. Maybe try and convince me to write shorter chapters for the sake of yours and my sanity. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this 11k+ chapter, I swear it wasn't meant to be this long. Thank you for being wonderful human beings who take the time out of your day to read my bullcrap!  
> Have a wonderful day and wear your mask correctly!!!!
> 
> My Tumblr:@ShhImAvoidingSleep


	38. The Fear and Not the Ghost that Leaves Me Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma has feelings...much to her own chagrin.  
> John tries to pick them all back up.  
> Paul tries to find the source of the noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song "Not the Ghost" by the Crane Wives (Shoutout to @AthingcalledR for inadvertently introducing me to this song in their fic "Between", which I highly recommend)
> 
> This one is still a little long, but it's not as bad as the last few.

Reset No. 6

Date: August 26th, 2018

Being Unknown

Emma looked at the mess that surrounded her. A vast sea of broken glass and equipment that hadn’t been swept up in the hours since the attack. 

Fourteen of the twenty three people who’d been killed in the attack, had died in the lab. Fourteen out of twenty people who’d been present in these levels of labs at the time of the attack had been killed. Three more had been injured, and were in critical condition...nothing looking great for them

She didn’t even get to learn their names. 

When the casualty list had been posted, and the damage analysis had been released, she’d felt sick to her stomach. Everything had spiralled out of control so quickly she’d had no time to truly process it all. Paul had helped, of course, but the fear still remained. 

She sighed and began to sweep away at the broken glass that littered the floor, pushing it into a pile that she could use the dustpan to clear away later. For now, what she needed was to clear away what damage she could, and pray that whatever research she and Xander had managed to obtain, had been kept safe. The lab equipment they had was mostly destroyed, bullets through the centrifuges, through the wiring, through the power strips, if it wasn’t for the few fluorescent lights of the lab, she probably would have been in complete darkness. All she could do was avoid looking at the blood as she swept. The dents in the metal of the lab tables, and the holes through the walls and dividers were seared into her brain. Making anxiety rise in her heart. 

These sets of labs had been the place where she, Xander, and Hidgens had focused most of their time and effort towards researching. Over the past few weeks, they hadn’t had any major breakthroughs, but it didn’t make it any less significant to her. She’d grown fond of her station, of the equipment she was given access to, of the microscope and monitor that greeted her every time she went to it. 

But life was determined to be a bitch and destroyed it. 

The fact that an attempt had been made on the lives of everyone who occupied the labs, the servers, the cafeteria, and the command center- even Xander’s personal labs- was sickening. PEIP was supposed to be the best equipped for this, and yet, there was still the threat that lingered on the air, and whatever had taken the time to do this much damage was ever present. 

She hoped John was wrong when he’d said that someone within their group was contaminated...corrupted by the forces of evil that sought to destroy them. She couldn’t imagine the guilt that would come from something like this. Hannah had repeated the word ‘puppet’ over and over again, hadn’t she? That meant someone was being manipulated against their will, right?

She shook the thoughts away as she continued to sweep, the clink of the glass against the tile floors almost soothing in the small noises. In some ways it reminded her of a symphony. 

Once the glass was cleared, she looked at the damage that remained. At least the place didn’t look like a _complete_ wreck anymore. Minus the lingering bloodstains and the bullet holes that riddled almost every single available surface, she felt a little more at ease now that the glass was cleared. The sight of the damaged computer monitors made her sigh. She wouldn’t be able to access her files and research now that the monitors were damaged. And from the looks of it, there wasn’t a single working lab computer that hadn’t been damaged beyond usefulness. 

With a sigh, she sat down at her lab stool, looking for any paper copies of her research she might have had the sense to keep. She pulled out her key and forced open the damaged storage drawers beneath the table, looking through the messily labelled files that had once held several papers and observations she’d made about her exploits...which weren’t there. She cursed lightly as she opened another drawer, hoping that she would find that she’d simply misplaced them.

“Looking for something dear?” a familiar voice made her jump. She whirled around to see a weary-looking Professor Hidgens, leaning up against the doorway. His silver hair looked a little bit disheveled, and his ice blue eyes looked like they’d not seen sleep for a century. In spite of her mistrust of the man, she felt sorry for him. He had been working to help Lex and Hannah with their abilities. Like herself, he’d also been under siege, saving himself, Rodney, and Callie by barricading them in the storage closet when the first few shots were fired.

She sighed, “Um...yeah. With the computers damaged, I won’t be able to access any of my research, and my notes…” 

Her notes weren’t in any of the drawers, making her fearful. What she’d found had been minor, of course, she was hardly a breakthrough scientist, but it had held a great deal of observations regarding Hidgens as well as what she knew about the blue shit that had infected Paul at the beginning of the month. While it wasn’t much, it was still her research, and if it caused any harm... 

“Mine too,” the old man sighed, “Everything I had on the Black and White, from both my youth and recent work.”

Somehow Emma didn’t feel like she believed him. In spite of everything they’d been through over the course of the past few months that had indicated he was innocent of their suspicions, he’d still been dead set on murdering Paul when he’d been infected. And there wasn’t a cell in her body that was inclined to forgive him for that. The man just _screamed_ danger to her now. Long gone was the professor that she’d tolerated above the rest because he was kooky and understanding that she was working her ass off. Even if he was uninvolved with the workings of the Black and White, she didn’t feel like she could ever trust him again.

“So,” she sighed, “Whoever did this…” she gestured to the damage and bloodstains, “Knew what to look for.”

“It would appear that way,” he sighed, taking a seat on the stool opposing her, “How's the leg?”

She looked down at the bandages that covered her calf, which had been giving her more annoyance than it had real pain, on account of the stiffness and the painkillers.

She’d been very lucky the bullet had clipped her and not gone through, according to Becky. She sighed, “The leg’s fine.”

He nodded and sighed, “Emma, I know you don’t trust me, so I’ll be brief…”

She quirked an eyebrow. Was he about to confess? Or make some big production out of the tragedy to make her trust him again? She wouldn’t. She couldn’t grant herself that luxury.

Hidgens sighed and folded his hands in front of him, “Above all else, you were always my favorite student. You were bright and worked harder than anyone I’d ever seen-”

“Stop trying to butter me up, please,” she groaned, “Just say what you need to say and leave me alone.” 

He sighed and stood, straightening his sweater, “I just need you to understand that regardless of how... _outlandish,_ or inhumane my conduct and theories may be, they are only for the good of the world.”

“The good of the world?” She scoffed, “Killing Paul would have been for the good of the world?”

“Destroying an infected individual would have been,” he countered, his voice low, “I didn’t think he could be saved.”

“You’re a scientist!” She laughed with acid in her tone, “Aren’t you supposed to examine every possibility...for the good of the world? Besides, you had that sedative! He wasn’t able to do _anything_ that would bring anybody harm!” 

“Yes but I didn’t know that!” 

“You should have!” She shot back, sighing and trying to keep her voice low, “Why they put his life in your hands, I will never know...but what matters now is that he’s okay.”

She paused, unsure of her next words, even as he turned on his heel in exasperation, “But you don’t like that, do you?” 

He whirled around, his face red, “Excuse me?” 

She wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated as she stood, steadying herself against the lab table so she could stand as tall as she could while facing him, “You heard me.” 

“What are you implying?” He all but shouted, his face growing nearly purple. She shoved away the memories of her angry father and mother leering over her as their unhappy marriage made her childhood miserable.

“How could you not know the properties of your own serum?” she asked, keeping her tone calm, “The sedative ended up making his condition worsen...you claimed ignorance, but I’m not quite sure I believe it.”

“I. Didn’t. Know.” he said, each word standing on its own, dangerous, and making her pulse quicken. There was an anger in his eyes she couldn’t quite place. 

“Paul’s condition was better the moment Becky took him off of the sedative you were pumping his veins full of,” she continued, moving to a side lab table, as if she was showing him she wouldn’t be glued to a singular spot, “Yet, you kept insisting he stay on it for the ‘safety of the world’, and you didn’t seem happy when he woke up...which was the whole point of keeping him alive to begin with.” 

“How would you feel-” he sputtered, walking closer to her. 

“I’m not finished, “ she interrupted him, “You...you stood on the pulpit and demanded he be put down at every turn, but you had the thing that would have saved him...I’m inclined to think that maybe...you wanted Paul dead.”

“Of course I wanted him dead,” He sighed, “He was a singing, blue alien...who needed to be put down before he could do any damage to the world.” 

“I didn’t say the singing, blue alien,” she clarified, “You wanted _Paul_ dead.” 

“Are you sure there’s a difference in your mind?” He countered cooly, “The only reason I never let you in to see him, was because you would have-”

“I would have what?” she cut in, “I would have figured it out faster?”

“Figured out what?” He almost shouted, his face growing redder, an almost frantic madness. 

She straightened up, “I’m not sure yet…” she wouldn’t jeopardize the investigation because she was filled with indignance over what he’d done to Paul...whether it was intentional or unintentional, “All I know is the world doesn’t need _you_ to play jury and judge when it comes to the Black and White.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked past him, prepared to leave and meet with Xander, John, June, Tom, and Paul to analyze what had been taken in the siege. It seemed John was right when he said that data had been stolen. 

She was nearly to the door when she heard Hidgens speak from behind her. 

“I’m not your enemy, Emma,” he growled, “But believe me...you don’t want to make me one.”

She turned to face him, “You’re very obviously _not_ my ally, so what are you?”

The man’s anger from earlier had melted away when he turned to face her, replacing his red face with a cool and cruel smile. He tilted his head as he leaned calmly against a lab table, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

She scoffed and made an effort to walk out of the labs as fast as she could, not wanting to be alone with him for much longer. She closed the sealed doors behind her, leaving behind the visible carnage and bloodstains that had claimed the lives of fellow scientists. Somehow, in spite of the lack of evidence to suggest as much, she was almost certain that he was involved. 

Why else would he make remarks that were so cold and cruel in nature?

_I’m not your enemy, Emma...but believe me, you don’t want to make me one._

That was a remark that hit a little _too close_ to home. 

As she exited the labs sector and came to the small lobby that adjoined several different departments, she was instantly put at ease when she saw Paul standing there, talking to Lex and Hannah, his eyes wide. 

“And you guys are okay?” he was saying as she approached, his hands fiddling. 

Lex smiled slightly, “Hey, dude, just because this whole ‘family’ thing was kinda thrown at us, you don’t need to feel obligated…” 

“I’m not,” he responded, “I just know that yesterday was kind of shitty, and I just wanted to be sure you guys were fine.”

Hannah smiled up at him, “Yesterday was really shitty.”

“Hannah!” Lex exclaimed, making Paul go kinda pale. Emma guffawed from where she stood, and all three looked up to see her, smiling slightly as she approached.

“What a nice little family reunion,” Emma smiled as she approached, “Hope I didn’t ruin anything?” 

Lex smiled, “Uh, no...Paul was just checking up on us before I take Hannah to go play with Tim, and I go have my lesson with Hidgens.” 

“Oh…” she didn’t like the sound of that, not after the conversation she’d just had with him, “Even with the damage to the labs?” 

Lex nodded, “Yeah, he said we needed to stay on top of training, as I’m getting better at all that...Black and White psychic shit.”

Emma looked the girl in the eye, “You ever skip out on school, Lex?”

“Um...yeah, duh?” she said like it was obvious, “Anyone who doesn’t has no sense at all.” 

“Then skip out today,” Emma said, keeping her tone serious, “I’m serious, Lex, _skip out_.”

Lex quirked an eyebrow, “Why?” 

Emma sighed and looked at Paul before looking back at the two girls, “Just...trust me on this..I think Hidgens might be acting a little more...insane and creepy than normal.” 

“Wow,” Lex spoke bluntly, “Thats a high bar to overtake.” 

Emma chuckled dryly, “Damn straight...but I’m serious, avoid him like the plague.”

Hannah nodded and looked up at her sister, “She’s right...something not right.” 

Lex’s sardonic gaze softened as her sister gazed up at her. Slowly, she nodded, “Okay...we’ll probably just hang with Tim and E, then?” 

Hannah nodded with a small smile, before pulling forward and wrapping Paul in a small hug, which he returned somewhat awkwardly, his face going red, as if he was unsure of what to do. 

Hannah looked back up at Paul as she broke away, “I’m glad you’re a part of our family.” 

With that, she took her sister's hand and the pair set off in the opposite direction, heading for the rec rooms where Tim normally would play for the majority of the days. Emma smiled up at Paul, who still seemed slightly shocked by the affection he’d received from his distant family member.

“So..” she teased as she nudged him, “You’ve got a decent family now, huh?”

“I mean…” she muttered, smiling slightly, “They’re good kids.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed as she leaned into him, needing a small hug, at the very least after her confrontation with Hidgens. 

“You know, we adopted them in one of the past resets?” he murmured as he hugged her back.

She looked up at him, eyes wide, “What?” 

“I mean… we were more of mentors to them than parents but...from the looks of it…” he trailed off, his words growing noticeably happy, “We were all happy.”

She smiled at the look on his face. It was a look of happiness that she couldn’t quite place. The idea of her, him, Lex, and Hannah living together as their own little family seemed like something that wasn’t such a bad idea. In spite of their slight dysfunctionality as human beings individually, they seemed to fit together nicely as a group. Hannah had already formed a friendship with Tim.And it was already well-known that Tom was already fond of Lex, Hannah, and Ethan as it was.

In some ways, she realized, they already had formed their own little family. Even in the wake of the destruction that had been tormenting them over the course of lifetimes.

As she looked at the small warm smile on his face, she thought about the idea of them being a literal family.

Outside of these events.

Outside of the fear that at any moment they would all be wiped from existence.

Outside of a reality like this one. 

Why did she suddenly want that?

Why did the idea of having a family seem suddenly a lot less scary than it had when she left for Guatemala? 

Maybe having a family wasn’t so scary after all.

Maybe accepting the fact that she wasn’t against the world wasn’t so bad. 

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she’d found someone like Paul.

He’d made her feel like anywhere could have been her home, as long as he was with her. Even in their shitty PEIP issued apartment. He made her feel like he was her home. She felt safe and wanted and _loved_.

Maybe she wanted a family with him. 

Maybe every idea of an eternity with him filled her with warmth and not disgust. Every single time she looked into those big blue eyes of his, she felt like she’d found where she belonged. The missing piece in her life- which, made sense since his soul literally completed her own. Maybe when people used to say she’d eventually find the right person, they’d not been bullshitting her one hundred percent. 

Paul was gentle, kind, sweet, flawed, patient in all the ways she couldn’t be. She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t swell every time she saw him with Tim and Hannah. The way he just was gentle with them, kind to them. In their eyes, he was cool, even if he didn’t know how to act around kids at all. He was gawky, awkward, couldn’t read any social cues, and yet, was somehow so endearing through the base of it all. 

In some ways, maybe she’d started to think that their family didn’t need to stop with just the two of them. Maybe...when this was all over... 

Oh, God. 

Who was she? 

Jane? 

Bitterness filled her veins as the thoughts suddenly went flying down the drain. 

Jane had planned for every step of her life. Down to the last detail. She even had Tim’s name combination picked out when she was eight years old, if Emma remembered correctly. 

Her sister had planned every single second of her life as thoroughly as anybody would have wanted. And she actually lived it...up until the moment a drunk driver went too fast at an intersection and set the events of the resets in motion. 

Jane had thought of everything and what good had it done her? 

She shoved those thoughts away as the reality of the situation came crashing back to her. They were fighting forces that lived beyond all time and space. Between realities. Between the fabric of the universe. 

What was the point of planning for a future, anyway, if it all could be stolen away at any second?

Any chance at actually living a life as a bigger family wasn’t a possibility. 

Paul noticed her sad expression and nudged her gently, “Em?” 

She snapped out of her thoughts as he stared down at her, his blue eyes filled with concern, “You okay?” 

“Huh?” she asked dumbly, as the remaining thoughts of what a wonderfully boring life with Paul and the other people she’d come to love over the course of these events had seeped away from her mind. 

“You just…” he seemed unsure of his words, “Started staring off...like you were sad...you okay?” 

“Hmm- Oh! Yeah…” she broke away from his hug, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just...uh…” 

She had to think of an excuse quickly. Something that wouldn’t give way to the fact that she’d been having bullshit domestic thoughts, “I just..uh...had a really weird conversation with Hidgens.” 

Paul’s eyes looked protective, “Did he do anything to you?” 

She shook her head, “I think...he may have been passive aggressively threatening me...but to be fair, I kinda threatened him.”

He didn’t seem convinced, studying her intently as he searched her face. She knew he could tell when she was lying...or when she said something that wasn’t the root cause of her thoughts. Still, telling him about her wishful thinking wasn’t aptly timed. 

“You sure?” he whispered, his eyes still filled with thoughtful concern, taking in every cell of her face as he analyzed whatever her face was showing. 

She nodded with a small grin, “Yeah...let’s just get to the briefing. Okay?” 

He nodded smally, his eyes still concerned, but his smile was soft, “Okay.”

“Okay.” 

He took her hand in his and they set off towards John’s office, where this analysis meeting would be taking place. As they walked, he gently squeezed her hand, making her look up to see a soft, comforting smile across his dorky face. The one that made her feel like the ever-present crisis would end. In every smile, she felt like all the pain would just fly away. Like an old rock that was weathered down upon, the pain was always there, but like the sea, he made it go away with time and persistence. 

Maybe they wouldn’t live the kind of life she was suddenly craving. Maybe they wouldn’t know what was coming to them. 

Maybe they were putting up a fight for nothing. 

But that was okay. Even if it wasn’t, it had to be okay. 

Maybe if she believed it long enough, she would believe it to be true. 

Everything was okay. 

She only hoped that they would live long enough for that to be completely true. 

\---

“All of the data and research i gathered was gone, and with the damage done to the servers, it’s likely that it was either erased or stolen,” Emma explained, resting her head on her hand, “Either way, the computers had all been destroyed in the attack, that carry the lab software, so there’s no way I can access the data normally.”

John stifled every curse that was flying through his mind as he nodded curtly, after an hour of being in his office, they’d just heard bad news after bad news.

It was an endless train of calamitous information that damned them to a much worse fate than before. Xander had no trace of whatever it was that he was working on over the course of his years at PEIP, from his sensors, to his convergence equations. June had lost sensitive security intel. Tom claimed the schematics and energy readings from the portal runs had been taken, and Paul couldn’t retrieve anything from the databases. Even more frustrating was the fact that when Tom had gone to survey the damage done to the countless levels of servers they had, it appeared as though the firefight had led to a complete shutdown, making them near-impossible to retrieve, thanks to an algorithm that Cynthia Houston had written.

“Hidgens claimed he lost everything too,” Emma went on with a sigh, “And then he passive aggressively threatened me when I was there earlier.” 

June cursed under her breath, “We’ve lost everything...and for what? Some of the information that was taken wasn’t even relevant to what we’re doing now. Most of the old stuff that was probably taken were just analyses of geographical landmarks of Hatchetfield that may have been hotspots. They never proved anything useful.” 

Tom massaged his temples with his hand that wasn’t in a sling, “But all the files are encrypted, yes? So it doesn’t matter that they stole them, right?” 

“Yes,” Xander sighed, “But given the fact that whatever had attacked us managed to do so, slaughtering twenty-four of our best and brightest agents without leaving behind so much as a footprint, I would say that the encryption is the least of their worries.”

“Twenty-four?” Emma raised her head, a sad look in her eyes, “I thought it was twenty-three?” 

Xander sighed, “Agent Redding died this morning.” 

Emma sighed and looked down. Another damn casualty from an attack no one had seen coming.

“Can we at the very least tell which files were stolen and which ones were deleted?” Tom asked, looking up expectantly, “I work in mechanics, not technology.” 

Paul shook his head, “I’ve never seen anything like this. The system looks the exact same, just lacking all files- beyond retrieval. We have no idea what the person was looking for when they stole these files, but they took everything. Everything is gone.”

June sighed, “We had five analysts tell us the exact same thing.” 

Paul nodded, “I’d have to agree with their conclusions, then, Schaeffer.” 

“They even cleaned out the filing cabinets!” Tom sighed in exasperation, “There was nothing in my files when I checked them yesterday, and Emma said the same thing for the lab’s paperwork...and the command files...all information has been stolen.” 

John buried his face in his hands and tried to breathe deeply. He’d been awake for the past twenty seven hours in an attempt to at the very least get the systems back online. He was no IT wiz like Paul was, but there were still so many things to consider. On one hand, the weapons containment hadn’t been raided, which he supposed was good. The real strength of PEIP, however, lay in its ability to obtain and sort information. Now, they had none, and were as good as crippled. Their only surviving file storage units were their literal brains, and the leads were only trapped in their memory. In addition to that, the costs to fix and replace all the lab and server equipment that had been lost in the attack, was way out of the budget that PEIP could maintain during this rest, where the lack of leadership long-term had taken its toll.

John wished he had more resources. But all he had was his gut. 

“Security footage remains intact, right?” he asked, looking at Paul and Tom, who’d spent hours, the day before, bringing all of it back online, which had surprisingly worked, “And in all the hotspot locations, they start at the exact same timestamp?” 

Paul nodded, “Agent Crawley ran diagnostics on it to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with and we can tell that they are exactly as they should be.” 

“And there’s no sign of any shooters or nothing?” 

June shook her head, “Absolutely nothing John. It's like we got attacked by a platoon of trained soldiers, with itchy trigger fingers, and they didn’t even leave us an idea of where they’d come from.” 

John sighed again. This whole situation was fucking infuriating to him. Everything felt so far out of his control. He knew it was no fault of theirs that their work had been stolen, or the fact that PEIP had managed to collapse so quickly and so easily. He knew that the only person at fault was the person who’d pulled the trigger on the gun they couldn’t even identify (literally, their forensic expert couldn’t identify the kind of gun the bullets had come from). It felt like they were on a train they knew were going to crash, and the emergency brakes kept changing locations.

Tom looked at him, “So, we have no clue what they took, why they took it, why they need it, what their next move might be, or what to do next?” 

“It would appear that way,” June nodded, “If they’d picked out select files, then we would know what necessarily they were after, but since they took everything…” she clicked her tongue, “We don’t know if they took only the stuff we had on the Black and White, or the stuff that might have been relevant to that...or something completely unrelated that would help them make more chaos during the apocalypse, who knows?” 

John didn’t appreciate the fatalistic tone in her voice.

“What do you think our next play should be?” Tom asked him, turning towards him. 

He was beginning to hate that question. 

Normally, he liked it when he had all the answers. When he was in command, he usually felt like he could give people the right indicators about which paths they should take to lead them to victory...but now, he felt clueless. Like he was on a boat that kept adding ore and more holes to itself as it sank, and yet he kept trying aimlessly to prevent it from being swallowed by the waves.

“We should probably fortify what we can,” June murmured, “Lock up what valuable assets we still have, dismantle or destroy Hidgens’ portal...destroy what samples of Paul’s blood we have left.” 

“What samples?” Emma scoffed, her eyes tired, “The rest were destroyed in the fight, and I used most of them in testing.” 

“Whatever it is, we can’t let them get it,” June said, “Our top priority should be in preparing. We’re about to face the fucking apocalypse...we can’t risk letting them have anything that could help them win.” 

In some ways John agreed. Their top priority should always have been keeping people safe. And though he’d failed at that yesterday, there were still moments when he felt like there was more to it. 

There was so much he couldn’t see. So much even Hannah couldn’t see. Even if she could see it, he wouldn’t ask her. She’d been almost shot the day before, and he was unwilling to take that risk ever again. No matter what the risks were, he was _not_ about to use an eleven-year-old like a weapon. Her or her sister. They would not send any more lambs to the slaughter. 

This was a sea of potential choices, choices in which they could either doom the world or save it. The problem was, they had no idea, which was which. And because of this, things got blurred. 

He agreed with June when it came to fortifying what they could and preparing, but he still wanted them to be active on the research front. Not that their research options were very promising, especially with the destruction of all the equipment they’d had. But at the very least the people they had were smart, and therefore, they could use what they could. Couldn’t they. 

He wasn’t about to sacrifice his faith in people. 

“I think…” he turned to Tom, “I think you and the rest of the mechanics department should work on increasing what defenses we have. If they maintain consistency, then they’ll strike here again. You should also make sure that everyone who is trained properly and won’t shoot themselves in the foot is armed.”

He turned to June, “You should probably oversee the reconstruction of what physical resources we have, make sure that the infirmary is all stocked up, that we have enough room for what we can do, and make sure we have preparation for the code white, black, and red protocol. If Hatchetfield is facing a force that can shock us that quickly, then we need to prepare for the worst possible scenarios, even if it means getting the people into our tunnels themselves. We don’t know what it is we’re facing, but we do know that whatever it is, it’s fast and efficient and strikes when least expected...and if Paul’s analysis from yesterday is right,” he turned to the man, “Then it has a flair for the dramatics.” 

He turned to Emma and Xander, “How well do you two remember that map of potential hotspots?” 

Emma nodded, “I remember that the Witchwood was on there, as well as another few more mundane locations...like the mall, the theatre..stuff like that.” 

John nodded, “I want you and Xander to run full analyses of those locations, see if they present any anomaly data. Anywhere at all. It doesn’t matter what. If it presents an anomaly, I want you to document it.” 

Xander nodded, “And if we do find something that could be indicative of what’s coming?” 

“You report it to me, at once,” John nodded, “To be honest, no one has anything that we need to expect, so the best we can do is prepare as best we can and as fast as we can. But that doesn’t excuse any lackadaisical attitude towards this matter.” 

Everyone nodded in concurrence. It all was too important to ignore it now. They all had to be ready. Even the people like Paul and Emma, who’d been thrown into the mix without wanting to be, were preparing with the tenacity of well-trained PEIP agents.

“I would suggest you move forward cautiously,” John warned, “We don’t want to incite a panic, but we also don’t want to let any potential enemies know that we’re on to them.”

June nodded, “Hopefully we can be discreet enough to maintain strength without drawing attention?”

“Exactly,” John nodded, “Until we are sure what’s coming, we can’t be sure of who we can trust.”

Everyone seemed to understand the weight behind what he was suggesting. In spite of the events that had happened the day before, and their knowledge that they’d shared amongst themselves, there was still the idea that they were in the midst of something that could wipe them all out. 

As they finished discussing the next steps each of them would take, he watched as they each filed out of the room. All ready to return to their own stations in which they would work as hard as they could to save the world. In spite of being the one who gave them the orders, he still felt useless. 

“Are we doing the right thing?” he murmured, turning to Xander as he remained standing there, “Are we making the right moves?” 

“John, you can’t start losing faith now,” Xander murmured, taking his hand in his, squeezing gently. 

“This is all so much, Xan,” he whispered back, “I don’t know if I’m leading us in the right direction.”

Xander squeezed his hand again, “None of us know what’s going to happen, John. You’re not completely clueless.”

“But I’m the General,” John reasoned, cringing inwardly at how petulant it sounded, “Aren’t I supposed to know which way is right and which way is wrong?” 

Xander chuckled lightly, his eyes still staring out the office windows, “John, not everything is Black and White. There’s no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’.”

John smiled slightly. One of their great theological debates they’d maintained since they’d known each other, that had trailed into their marriage was whether or not the concepts of right and wrong truly existed. 

John, for one, had been brought up under a staunch believer in good and evil. For as long as John could remember, his father had drilled into him the notions of right and wrong. And even if his notions of those categories changed over time, he believed in the division of the two. 

Xander, on the other hand, believed that there was never such a thing as a truly good side or a truly bad side. Instead, he saw the world as an endless gradient. Varying shades of moral complexity which characterized each choice. 

These differences between their ideals had made their relationship all the more exciting, and made these moments...slightly easier. 

“John, there’s no guarantee that any of us come out of this alive,” Xander said calmly, “But we have to trust our guts at the base of it all. We’re in uncharted territory, and you’re leading us as best as you can.”

“But what if that isn’t enough?”

“Then I dare say that’s not John McNamara talking,” Xander sighed, wagering a small glance towards John, “That's fear and paranoia.” 

John nodded, “I suppose that’s true...but what is there not to be fearful of?” 

Xander laughed dryly, “Wasn’t it your father who said something like…taking it one day at a time will help you find your way back?” 

John sighed, “Now you’re using my father’s words against me?” 

“Damn straight,” Xander spoke clearly, still not meeting his eyes, “Just take it one step at a time, worry only when the problems actually present themselves, okay?” 

John knew he was right. Everything had been so overwhelming, he’d been focusing on things that hadn’t really happened yet, rather than focusing on what was going on right now. At the very least the guilt that had knotted itself up in his chest after the events from the day before had been suppressed enough to the point where it didn’t gnaw away at his mind. 

Reluctantly, John nodded. 

“Hey,” Xander whispered, “Don’t let the bastards make you doubt yourself. You’re the best leader PEIP has seen since Cynthia Houston.”

John clicked her tongue, “You shouldn’t say that, she’ll come back and haunt us, and believe me...ghosts are the last thing we need right now.”

Xander laughed, “I’m serious, John, don’t doubt yourself because you couldn’t see something that nobody else could.” 

John wished he could believe that, but a major part of him still felt the weight that seemed to be compounding itself on the backs of everyone at PEIP. 

Xander squeezed his hand gently, his tone suddenly going much more calming and gentle. Intentional, almost, in the ways that he spoke his next few words, “John, one day at a time.” 

God, how John had managed to find someone as incredible as Xander, he never would know. In some ways Xander always knew which words were right. The words that could lead him back to a reality. A reality where he would remain mission driven. 

He smiled at his husband and squeezed his hand back. 

“One day at a time.” 

\---

“I forgot how fucking creepy the Witchwoods were,” Emma whispered in between bites of ramen that they’d made again for dinner. This time, they sat at the small table in their kitchen, opting to eat like actual functional adults rather than college kids. 

It was the obscene hours of the evening, almost ready to phase into the next day at 11:46, and they’d spent the whole day at their respective jobs. Paul had spent the whole day trying to recover what information and what servers he could. At ethe very least, he’d been able to bring the security systems back online, and get started on analyzing whether or not they could tell which files had been taken and which ones had been deleted into the cyber-oblivion from which they would never be able to be retrieved. The short story was; they couldn't. 

Emma had spent the whole day traversing around Hatchetfield with Xander and a few other scientists that hadn’t been placed under psychological leave after the events from the day before, utilizing what equipment they could to see if they could at the very least get some footing on which they could find different anomalies. Emma had only found small traces of energy around the Witchwood, but other than that, they’d come back empty-handed. 

“Like…” she muttered in between butes, “I used to love going there when I was younger. Like, it was my jam. But I forgot how quiet it was...like eerily quiet.”

“Really?” Paul figured that at the very least the forest would have had some sounds, “Not even birds?” 

“Nope.” she shook her head, “Apart from an occasional Nighthawk call, which would scare the crap out of me, you could hear next to nothing.” 

Paul nodded in understanding. He’d never really enjoyed going through the Witchwood when he was younger, mainly because his father threatened way too often that one day he was going to leave him in the middle of the woods and not come back for him. He’d heard stories about how frightening it was, and the knowledge that several ghost stories and monster tales had come out of them. Some seemed silly to him now, like the one about the Wooly Foot, but there were some that were legitimately terrifying. 

Stories that hadn’t waned in their ability to induce terror, especially since he now had reason to believe that they were true. 

Namely, the one about Willabella Muckwab, the muck-witch. 

The one where she could control a person by looking them in the eyes. The one where she could make even the most sensible of men shatter their minds. The one where she worshipped the spawn of Satan himself (which, he was now fairly certain that it was truly the Beings of the Black and White, that really influenced her). 

The one about a witch that he was now apparently related to. 

So, it made sense that the Witchwood, a place where his great-great-however-many-generations-grandmother had been executed for witchcraft was terrifying. 

Emma had taken him on hikes and walks through those woods, when the air wasn’t too cold or hot, and when the shades of autumn had painted the trees with colors that he and Emma both adored. In the autumn, the woods seemed much more friendly, more welcoming...if that made sense. While Emma was very much the more avid hiker, something about the woods had captivated him, and he’d not paid much attention to the fact that it was a silent wood. But now that Emma brought it up, all he could remember about the hikes themselves was the silence of the wood. 

In some ways, the memory sent a chill up his spine. 

“Xander suggested we go back tomorrow, though,” she went on, “To gather up some samples of tree bark and soil, see if there’s any connection to the Black and White presented there.”

“Hey, at least you’re getting out of the base,” He offered. He’d not even been able to leave the vbase and see Hatchetfield since he’d come back from the Black and white. His only contact with the people outside of the base, had been a phone call with his coworkers that had been spent listening to Bill cry over how much he missed him, and Ted berate Bill for crying. Still, at the very least he’d been able to talk to them. 

“I guess so,” Emma nodded, taking another bite of her food before looking back up at him, “At least I’m not trapped in a sea of cubicles all day, right?”

“Yeah,” Paul laughed, “It’s...quieter through. I almost miss Ted and Bill’s distracting banter.”

Emma gasped dramatically, “Shut the front door!” she exclaimed in a corny nineties-sitcom sounding voice, “Is Paul Matthews missing CCRP?” 

“Absolutely not,” Paul retorted with a smirk, “But I do miss knowing that I have at least half a brain cell my coworkers do not.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, “Half? I’d say you’re being kinda generous there, buddy.”

Paul snorted, “Oh yeah?” he stifled his laughter and tried to keep a face of mock-indignation, “What would you give me?” 

Emma pretended to think for a very long time, making him groan, “Wow. That little, huh?” 

“Shut up, I’m doing math!” She interrupted, scrunching up her eyes, “Maybe…. Point zero three of a brain cell…? Which is more than I can give Bill or Ted, but maybe not Melissa...or Charlotte...although, she’s still married to that asshole cop so-”

“Okay,” he laughed, holding his hands up in surrender, “You’ve made your point.” 

Emma smiled, her eyes going relatively soft, “But i get it...I mean, I wouldn’t go back to Beanies unless someone was holding a gun to my head...but I get missing the regularity of it all.” 

He tried to think of another clever retort, but found himself just staring at the strange melancholy look on her face. Something very obviously was on her mind. She’d been wearing that look when they’d headed from the small foyer in front of the labs to John’s office. She’d claimed she was just tired or some other saying he knew was an excuse, but he knew something was bothering her. 

“Emma, are you-”

_“Help!!! Please!!”_

His muscles stiffened and his chest tightened as Lex’s voice echoed in his brain again. 

He could hear it plain as day, loud and clear within his mind, almost like she was in the next room (Normally, they would have actually been one apartment over, but John and Xander had them moved closer to their apartment as a means of keeping a protective and close eye on them). At this point, there was no denying that it was her voice. 

But...she’d been fine when he’d checked on her and Hannah earlier today. Besides mentioning that they were still a little freaked out from the shooting and the information introduced at the impromptu meeting yesterday, they were fine. They were unharmed, and Lex certainly had not mentioned any screaming. 

Emma noticed the way he’d gone rigid, her eyes suddenly filled with a kind of soft concern, “Paul, you okay?” 

_“PLEASE!!”_

He stood. This had gone on long enough, Wherever the voice, whether or not it was actually Lex’s voice, was coming from, he was going to find out. Emma stood and went to him, “Paul, what’s wrong?”

He turned to her, the screaming growing louder and louder, making his ears ring. His hands flew to his ears as he gritted his teeth, “You seriously can’t hear that?” 

“Hear what?” she raised an eyebrow, “Paul, what’s wrong?” 

Paul fell to his knees as the screaming rose in volume, making his ears throb in a way he’d never been expecting, “I told you...I was hearing things…” he muttered, clutching his head intensely. 

“Yes, “ she nodded, kneeling down to meet him, “Is this…”

“It’s Lex,” he whispered, tears falling from his eyes as his head hurt in addition to his ears ringing, “She’s screaming...but when I checked earlier, she was fine…but it’s gotta be her.”

“Is this hurting you, Paul?” Emma asked, keeping her voice calm in spite of the panic that was very evident in her eyes.

He managed a small nod before stumbling up to his feet, Emma’s hands holding his own as she steadied him, “Need to find it…”

“Need to find what?” Emma asked, her voce growing slightly higher in pitch as she searched his face. 

“N-Need to find where it’s coming from ,” he managed as the noise softened slightly. He panted, everything was so loud. Every fibre of sense and logic that remained in his being screamed at him to not go anywhere near where it could be coming from, but something that ran deeper...an instinct of sorts, compelled him to find it. 

He stood and stumbled to the door, Emma trailing behind him. He had to find out where it was coming from. 

If Lex was okay, then why was he hearing her voice pleading for someone to help her? 

“Where are you going?” Emma asked, following him partially out the door, as he pulled on what shoes he could find. 

“I’m going to find where it’s coming from,” He answered, realizing how stupid it must have sounded to her.

However, rather than judging him, or asking him whether or not he was crazy, she messily pulled on her shoes and a cardigan, and followed him into the darkened corridor that ran between the different apartments. 

The screaming had receded as it had on the different instances before, but somehow, it remained there, faintly in the back of his mind. Emma had taken his hand at some point and followed him as he walked aimlessly through the hallways, leaving the small residential area behind and moving back into the more well-lit and guarded areas of labs and training rooms. 

What was he doing? 

The voice wasn’t growing louder or quieter in his mind. It was just there, pleading for someone to help it. For whatever reason, he thought it sounded like Lex. 

Still, every time he looked down at Emma she didn’t offer him any judgement, she only followed him further. Seeing as there was no other conceivable way for the sound to go away other than finding its source, he went on. 

He felt ridiculous, like he truly was losing his mind. His sanity had reached its edge in the past few days or he hadn’t had enough coffee, and because of that, he’d lost it. 

They’d been walking around the base for forty five minutes when Emma finally spoke, “Paul? Are you sure you heard the...the screaming?”

He sighed, staring down at the floor. He didn’t really know. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered, “I thought I did...but maybe…” he sighed, unable to meet her eyes, “Em, maybe I’m losing it.” 

“Don’t talk like that,” she chided him, her voice gentle, “You’re not crazy... maybe you’re just tired.”

He looked back at her, in her eyes, he could see that same, warm form of concern. A gentless and grace he’d never been granted before he’d known her. 

He nodded, “Yeah...yeah, maybe you’re-”

_“AAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHH”_ _  
  
_

A blood-curdling shriek of fury and pain erupted in his mind, making him fall to his knees painfully, bruising them against the hard floor. Emma fell in front of him, cupping his head gently but desperately, “Paul? Paul!”

He kept hearing his name from her but he wasn’t focusing on that. He could tell the direction that the noise was coming from. With a shaky hand, he tentatively moved it from his ears and extended it in the direction he swore it was coming from. 

When he forced his eyes open, all he saw in front of them, was a door. A door to a storage closet. 

“What…” Emma started, but clearly she couldn’t think of anything to settle on saying. 

“There,” he muttered, forcing himself to his feet and pulling Emma up, “It’s coming from here. 

“A storage closet?” Emma raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure?” 

“It has to be,” he whispered, pulling open the door, to reveal lines and lines of boxes, neatly stacked against the walls. A chill hit his bones as he stepped in, Emma following him with careful, watchful eyes. 

Emma let out a small defeated sound as he took in the mundane surroundings of cardboard, imposing their normalness on him, making him feel like he was the biggest idiot to walk the face of the earth. 

“Paul…It’s okay,” Emma started as she noticed the defeated and confused look on his face. The face he was preparing to beat himself up with.

“No…” he murmured, “I could hear it...it was coming from…”

He couldn’t believe how stupid he was. He hadn’t heard anything. Emma had to have been right when she suggested he was tired. After all, he hadn’t gotten good sleep in the previous few days. Obviously he was hallucinating...could hallucinations be auditory? He wasn’t sure of that, but it didn’t matter, because he was beating himself up for dragging Emma out in the middle of the night to search for something that he thought he’d heard. 

Maybe he just needed a reminder that everyone in their small group was okay. 

He turned to Emma, an apology on his tongue, when the voice sounded in his head again.

_“Is anyone there!?!? Please! Help me!!”_

While the voice wasn’t as excruciatingly loud as it was before, it was still clear, and for whatever reason, it led him to walk further into the darkened closet. Looking at the identical boxes, which were stacked in a way that it almost perfectly rivalled a brick wall. As he went deeper into the closet, Emma followed him, studying his face carefully. 

As Paul looked around, inspecting the boxes with care, Emma leaned up against a few, watching him with an unreadable expression on her face. In spite of her tiredness, she was willing to follow him and ensure that he was okay, even if it meant watching him carefully inspect each block of cardboard. 

“Paul I- ahhg!” 

He whirled around just in time to see a small row of the boxes that Emma had leant up against collapse as she put her weight on it, toppling over and making Emma fall to the floor. 

“Emma!” He hustled over to her and helped her up, being wary of her injured leg as she hissed in pain, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dragged us-” 

He trailed off as his eyes caught what had been the cause of Emma’s fall. 

Apparently, hidden behind the tightly nestled array of boxes, was a hidden crater in the wall, revealing a worm-like tunnel into the earth that PEIP’s subterranean base had been built into. Who ever had created the tunnel, had taken great care when it came to concealing its presence. 

“What the fuck?” Emma whispered as she looked at the tunnel she’d accidentally revealed, her eyes going wide, “What could’ve done…” 

She trailed off as she extended a hand out to touch the surface of the earth that formed the almost perfectly carved tunnel into the rock, which was eerily smooth, almost as if it had been polished. They turned to look at one another, their eyes equally wide.

“Where do you think it goes?” He asked, not sure he really wanted the answer.

Emma looked back up at him, her eyes suddenly filled with determination, “Only one way to find out.” 

At the back of Paul’s mind, the voice that sounded like Lex’s pleaded with him, begging him to move forward. In spite of his instincts yelling at him to go onward, he merely stared at the entrance, not knowing whether or not he should step forward.

  
As if reading his mind and sensing his personal hesitation, Emma took his hand, a small reassuring smile, taking a step forward, and leading him through the cold darkness. 

He shivered as the chill he’d found earlier grew, reminding him almost of the chill of the Black and White. Strangely enough, the tunnel was partially lit, from a source he couldn’t see, but it made their journey through the single stone corridor all the more easy. 

Emma studied the smooth rock walls with puzzlement, her hand never leaving his as they moved further through it. She reached out carefully, stroking the smooth rock gently. 

“What...this isn’t normal, Paul,” she muttered.

He hummed in response, his own eyes not believing what he was seeing. 

In addition to the stone being extremely smooth, it only had one corridor, leading them to one specific location, Paul would imagine. In spite of there being some form of light, there were no indicators of bioluminescence, or lanterns, or anything that would provide light itself. All there was, was the weird rock. 

Emma drew her hand back, “We’ve got to tell John and Xander about this, when we get back.”

He nodded in agreement, still unable to form words. 

They traversed down the hall, still unable to completely understand what it was they were seeing, when a strange, familiar scent hit Paul’s nostrils. A scent that smelled vaguely of peppermint, chemicals, and whiskey...if that made any sense. 

Emma noticed it too, but unlike him, her eyes widened.

“No fucking way…” she whispered, her eyes scanning the hallway with something that looked vaguely like fear. She turned to him, “I think I know where this leads…”

As if she had received a sudden burst of energy, Emma grabbed his arm and bounded forward, a small limp in her steps. 

“Emma, slow down! Be careful on your leg!” He called out after her, somehow failing to keep up with her, “We need to be- what…”

His words were lost as the cavern came to an abrupt end, revealing a familiar white room filled with blinding light.

With a horrifying chill that ran up his spine he suddenly recognized the scent, and the room.

Though it now lacked the portal and control panel that had been there the last time he was there, the room was unmistakable. It was a room where his knowledge of the Black and White had begun. The room where he’s first been torn from Emma and from life. 

This was Professor Hidgens basement.

“What…” Emma was clearly beyond shocked at what she was seeing, “What has he been doing down here?” 

Paul wasn’t so sure he didn’t want the answer to that question. 

Obviously the room had taken up another purpose, as it was lined with long lab tables and chemicals that had clearly not been abandoned in a flurry of work. Rather than it housing a control panel of sorts there was a podium of sorts, which housed a large computer monitor of sorts. 

Emma took a few steps forward, looking at the assortment of notes and chemicals that lines the tables, making the room itself look like a very disheveled and discoordinate lab of sorts, which seemed fitting for Hidgens, in a sense. 

From one of the lab tables, he picked up a glass box, which held in it, a long, sleek black knife. The mere sight of it sent shivers up his spine, but something stopped him from putting it down. 

He used a free hand to gently brush over the notes on the tables, in Hidgen’s unmistakable scribbly handwriting, when he realized with a start, that he couldn’t read it. 

The professor either had really bad handwriting, or he was writing in a completely different language. While some of the letters seemed familiar to Paul, the rest looked like symbols and numbers that he’d never seen before. While he wouldn’t put it past the professor to be writing in all different kinds of code, it seemed like this was a language he’d never seen before. 

He was just about to suggest they go back through the tunnel and call for backup when Emma gasped and elbowed him in the side, making him whirl around. 

He matched her gasp and grabbed her arm as he took in the horrific sight before him. 

Up against the wall, was a monstrosity of sorts that resembled a tree, constructed entirely of something that looked like grey glass. The bumps and ridges were smooth, but seemed intentional, as veins of a substance that looked like quicksilver ran underneath it, clumping it entirely to the wall. 

They took a hesitant step forward, examining the glass-like tree, when they noticed something underneath the surface...something that looked like it very much didn’t belong.

From what he could see, it looked like a mass of brown and different shades of maroon clumped together at the center of the transparent grey object, but as they got closer and closer, the clear figure of something alive was seen within there. At the back of his head, the voice was still screaming, but instead of blaring in his brain like a painful headache, he felt...familiarity.

They were about a yard away from the tree when he could make out a flesh-colored shape of two hands, positioned similarly to the way a fetus rested within a womb, the knees of what he now knew to be a person positioned close to the chest. 

Something silvery and tube-like ran through what he assumed was the person's face, which was concealed by something that looked soft, and brown. 

With a start, he realized he recognized the figure. The messy brown hair. The dark maroon and black clothing. 

The person whose voice he’d been hearing on and off over the course of the past few days. 

A person he’d had an amiable conversation with mere hours before, with the peace of mind that she was fine. 

The person...he could still hear begging out for help in his mind despite appearing to be sleeping within the grey glass cocoon. 

His voice was shaky as he tentatively placed a hand against the smooth grey surface, unable to believe his eyes. 

“L...Lex?”

\---

Elsewhere, Hannah Foster woke up with a gasp. 

_Something's wrong,_ she could sense, _Not right._

She peered over to the side bed, where her sister was snuggled up next to Ethan, sleeping soundly. 

In that moment, only one message blared through her mind.

All the muddled noise that had confused her over the past few weeks was gone.

In its place, there was only one message that screamed at her to run as fast as she could. 

_"NOT LEXI"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my...what has Hidgens been up to...?  
> Emma loves Paul  
> John's faith is wavering  
> Paul doesn't understand what's happening  
> All the while...Poor Lex.
> 
> Tune in next time for 'Lets see all the ways Ave can torture these characters'!!
> 
> Please leave comments and or kudos, if you would like, to let me know how I'm doing, or how your day is going!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!!  
> I really hope you guys have a good day!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	39. Seems Like a Good Day to Burn a Bridge or Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are reflected upon.  
> Paul and Emma try to free Lex.  
> Ethan is given a warning.  
> Is escape a possibility?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooooooooo, guys. This is gonna be a bumpy one, so buckle up. 
> 
> The chapter title comes from the song "Beautiful Disaster" by 311 (Emma's favorite band)
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Mentions of alcohol, but no one gets drunk so...idk?
> 
> This chapter is shorter than the previous ones, but it definitely packs a punch.

The chill of the Black and White’s energy danced deliciously across her shoulder blades, from which her sharp and pointy limbs, so unlike her human-like ones, were extended.

She knew she looked like a monstrosity to the few humans who’d been allowed to see and hear her. The few who’d had the minds powerful enough to comprehend her voice. With her spindly extra legs that extended from her inhuman spine, sharp and black, like daggers that struck fear into the hearts of all who came across them, in addition to her unearthly pale skin, ebony black curls, and her multiple ruby-colored, piercing eyes, she was a force no man found themselves brave enough to deal with. 

They were wise to stay out of her path even long after she had faded into the subject of myth and legend. 

Her veil flew behind her, flowing in a nonexistent breeze that sang to the heavens about how the world would surely be hers within a matter of days in Hatchetfield. 

Once all was done, she could rid herself of the puppets and the paupers, who dared call themselves the children of the Black and White, and regain her true family. 

Of course, the final puppet was still down there, dancing on his wonderful little thread. Another pauper. A perpetrator that was truly like a fleck of spit when it came to the power and might of the real blood of oblivion.

Webby was smart in the regard that she didn’t share her plans with anyone. Not even Apatha and Wiggly, who, like her, were born from the matter of the Black and White, and were her literal blood. Pure chaos ran through their veins in ways that it couldn’t for Hush, Drown, Void, and Mask. Those four were fallacies in the fabric of the universe. 

Still, they were useful fallacies when it came to getting her what she needed. 

Unlike the others, she didn’t need a window to watch what was happening in Hatchetfield. She could see and hear everything she pleased without so much as any effort. All it took was just closing one of her many ruby eyes and she would see any angle of the world she could. She always admired Hatchetfield for that. She knew her baby brother, Bliklotep, would too.

Her plans weren’t selfish...in a way.  
No...she merely saw Hatchetfield as the perfect nest for her perfect family to regain what was rightfully theirs.

Their true happiness. 

Their lifeblood.

The idea of her family experiencing the wondrous and perfect chaos of ruling over mankind, which would scramble across their convoluted earth like insects trapped in...well, a web, was intoxicating to her. It filled her with a kind of thrill that she’d not experienced since she’d last held her baby brothers in her arms, ready to make the existing worlds bend to their will. 

Her family that had been separated cruelly by the fabric of the universe. Way back when their chaos had been too much for every existing reality to handle. 

So, the family was divided in two. 

Bliklotep, T’noy Karaxis, and Nibblenephim had been sent out to a dimension where Webby couldn’t reach. 

When that had happened, Webby, Wiggog Y’wrath, and Apatha (though back then, she’d been known as Pokotho) had been trapped in the Black and White, severed from their siblings and stuck with minor, less powerful beings left to fill the void that her family had left behind. 

In some ways, she had been fascinated by Hannah Foster, due to the relationship she shared with her sister. In acknowledging how devoted Lex was to making sure her sister lived to see another day, she was reminded of the bond she’d had with her own siblings, before they’d been splintered and scattered across the universe. 

She knew that she would never feel the satisfaction of existing as a powerful being within the Black and White if her family wasn’t knit together as they had been before. 

Together, they deserved to rule over the realm that never ended. After all, Hatchetfield was the one place that could withstand their chaos in lifetime after lifetime. Hatchetfield would forever serve as the ground on which their eternal empire would be built...A world that would be conquered by the power of he Black and White with nothing stopping it. 

In her many eyes, ever watchful, Hatchetfield was the perfect prize for her and her siblings to lavish themselves upon. Ruling in a world that seemed to be born from the same oblivion that they’d been created from. Made of the same mettle. The same blood. Though Hatchetfield itself was the singular anomaly that set this particular world apart from the others, it was the factor that made the rest of the world vulnerable. It was what made the rest of the world fall victim time and time again to the forces they’d never have the minds nor power to ever comprehend. 

She knew her plan would work as she watched the tall man and short woman make their way into the nest of Mask. Their punishment was warranted, and the reckoning would reach them soon enough. The fact that Mask had seen enough and learned enough to move forward in his own gameplay gave her an angle. His plan intersected with her own, and though the ends were different, the means were similar enough that she could manipulate it to her own success. 

And as Webby watched and waited, she could only smile. 

\---

Reset No. 6

Date: August 27th, 2018

Being of Facades

“Holy shit.”

Emma couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Between discovering a secret tunnel from PEIP into the Professors massive basement,and finding a lab that seemed almost cartoonishly devoted towards evil, she hadn’t thought she’d see anything like this. 

The massive glass tree seemed to stretch from the floor and into the ceiling, writhing around in shapes that would make a professional glassworker jealous. She would have thought it a beautiful sculpture, had it not been for the figure of Lex, almost kneeling within the structure itself. 

It had taken a while for her to recognize the figure, but when Paul whispered Lex’s name, she knew there was no way she was hallucinating.

Lex was unmoving, almost as if she was frozen within the glass-like structure. 

Now, she was even more puzzled. 

Had Paul really heard Lex calling for help?

Whatever he’d been hearing, it had been enough for the two of them to discover the tunnel as it was, and subsequently the lab itself. While she’d not believed him to be crazy, she felt like hearing Lex’s voice was a little far-fetched, but now that they had found Lex there...what did it all mean?

“We’ve got to get her out of there,” she whispered, stepping forward and placing a hand on the glass surface, a chill sending itself through her bones as she did. 

“How?” Paul asked, his blue eyes searching frantically over the room for anything they could use. 

Her eyes fell to the box he was holding in his hand, “What’s that?” 

Paul looked down, “It looks like a knife...of some kind...it…” he trailed off, chewing on the inside of his cheek, “It just seemed...important.”

“Well, let's use that to get her out, then!” she exclaimed, adrenaline pouring into her veins as she searched the room for any sign of Hidgens coming back. 

In a spur of a moment, she grabbed the box from Paul and smashed it, uncaring of where the glass went. Carefully, she removed the long black knife from the pile of glass and inspected it. 

It was made out of a dark material she couldn’t recognize, and had some slight symbols, similar to the ones she’d seen on the notes lining the tables, carved into the hilt and blade. Other than that, it seemed like a regular knife. 

She turned to the grey glass figure and raised the knife, carefully positioning it against the surface with the intention of hammering away at it like an ice pick, “Paul, find something you can use to help me with- _AHHHwhatthefuck_!” 

As soon as the blade made contact with the surface of the grey structure, the blade began to glow, making her yelp and try to drop it. Still, as if it was glued to her palm, the blade remained, drawn to the surface as if by a magnet. 

“Emma!” Paul exclaimed, his eyes wide and his stance stiff, uncertain of what to do. 

She tried to pull away from the blade, but as she did so, the grey glass began to glow silver, the quicksilver veins beginning to brighten greatly. 

With a satisfying crack noise, veins of silver forming cracks in the glass began to form around where the blade had made contact with the structure that was imprisoning Lex, spreading around the surface quickly, like a bolt of lightning falling from the heavens. 

_CRASH!_

With a thunderous sound, the glass began to disintegrate and fall in a tidal wave of granules that scattered about the room, cutting into Emma’s skin as she suddenly managed to let go of the blade and was sent flying back into Paul. The two squeezed their eyes shut, until the sound of glass breaking subsided, and a horrifying silence filled the room. 

Emma had scrapes all over her body and face from where the small pieces of glass had whipped past her, and when she tentatively opened her eyes, she saw Paul had some of the same markings, the tiny fragments of glass in his hair, collecting across it like snowflakes. 

“You okay?” he whispered, his hands holding tightly but gently onto her arms. 

She managed a small nod and looked around at their surroundings, where countless shards of glass surrounded them like a blizzard had just blown through the room. 

A few feet away from them, half-submerged in the glass shards, lay the knife, which Emma kicked away with a small shocked sound. Her eyes scanned the damage, where the glass tree had been before her eyes befell upon a small figure, also covered in the snow-like glass. 

“Lex?” Paul managed to gasp out, before helping Emma up. 

They both scrambled towards the teenager, who was still hunched over with her knees hugged to her chest, her eyes closed. 

Emma rolled her over gently, revealing a thin trail from her mouth, where the silver tube had dried up and was now dangling in a dry string. She carefully pulled what was left of it out of her mouth and propped her up, “Lex?” 

What had happened to her?

As Emma scanned over the teen, Paul checked for a pulse. 

Lex was wearing a maroon long-sleeved shirt and torn black jeans, which Emma could have sworn she’d never seen her wear since they’d had one of their first few briefings after Paul got back. 

How long had Lex been here?   
And if Lex was down here, then why had she seemed fine when Emma and Paul had seen her earlier?

Paul looked up at her, his blue eyes wide as his fingers gently held a wrist, checking almost expertly for a pulse, “She’s alive.”

Emma exhaled a small sigh of relief and gently shook the teen, “Lex? Lex, wake up.”

The teen let out a small groan, and raspy coughs left her lips. Her body spasmed in Emmas arms as Paul tried to help her steady the gasping girl. 

“That’s it, “ Emma soothed, “That’s okay, just breathe.”

The teen lurched up more horrible gasps leaving her as she shook. Emma propped her up as best she could, carefully pulling some of the glass shards free from the teen’s messy hair as she did. 

Lex looked like a wreck, which was putting it nicely. 

In addition to having her eyes squeezed shut, they were covered in bruise-like shadows, which made her eyes appear more sunken and corpse-like. The girl’s usually warm-toned skin was pale, and she shook noticeably, making Emma and Paul hold her a little tighter, to prevent her from lurching up too much and hurting herself. 

After a few more deep, gasping breaths, Lex’s eyes opened, squinting in the light. 

“Wh….” she mumbled, her voice heavy and groggy, “What...the...fuuuuck?” 

The words sounded slurred, like they’d been spoken by a drunken man, but Emma couldn’t keep herself from releasing a laugh of relief, “Hey, Lex, you’re okay…” 

She hoped those words were true. As Lex’s eyes adjusted to the light, Emma could see that she was weak in the way her hands moved. Emma helped her sit up straighter. 

“Where…’m I?” Lex slurred, her already raspy voice sounding strained as a hand clumsily went to her forehead, “What…”

Suddenly her eyes widened and the teenager tried to sit up quickly and scramble away, much more awake then before, “What happened?” 

“That’s what we were hoping you could tell us,” Paul whispered, still helping Lex adjust to sitting up properly. 

The teen shook her head from side to side, as if warding off a headache of sorts, “The last thing...we...we had a briefing..didn’t we...I went to grab something from the…” she gasped again, her eys widening in something that reminded Emma of suppressed fury, “That...that _fucking air conditioner_!!” 

Emma glanced at Paul, almost certain that she was mirroring his bewildered expression, “What?” 

“It was...It was so loud,” Lex stammered, her eyes now impossibly wide as she looked between Paul and Emma, fear making her tone shaky “Then there was a voice, and…and I screamed...and then…” 

Lex’s expression grew more horrified, “How long has it been? What happened? Where’re Hannah and Ethan?”

Emma looked from Lex to Paul, wordlessly exchanging information. Instead of answering Lex’s questions she looked at the terrified girl, unsure of what to make of the situation. 

“Lex…” she asked hesitantly, “What day do you think it is?” 

Lex tried to think, shaking her head and trying to gain a handle on her rapid breathing, “It was...I don’t know...we just got your guy back…” she stammered, looking down, “August...23rd...right?”

Paul looked up at Emma, his eyes wide, “Lex,” he muttered gently, “That was almost four days ago...do you remember yesterday?” 

Lex shook her head, “N-no...I think you just got out of the hospital though...right?” 

That had been a week before. 

“Wait, Lex,” Paul started, “You don’t remember the shooting?”

“The _what_?!” Lex’s eyes widened, her voice almost a panicked shriek, which broke with the strained state of her voice. Emma shot Paul a look that screamed ‘maybe not the best thing you could have said just then’ as she rattles off questions rapidly, “There was a _fucking shooting?! Is Hannah okay?_ ”

“Hannah and Ethan are fine, don’t worry,” Emma soothed, “You were with them, remember?” 

Lex shook her head, “I wasn’t there! I was...wherever we are now…” 

Emma glanced up at Paul, eyes wide and face pale. 

If Lex had been here since August 23rd, then who’d they been walking amongst for the past few days, sharing some of the most important details of their missions with. 

More frighteningly though was the question of who they’d left Ethan and Hannah with...and what was she planning? 

\---

“Ethan,” Hannah’s voice drew him out of his sound sleep as she brushed her fingers gently against his arm, making him groan in complaint, “Ethan, wake up.”

“Mmmh...Banana?” Ethan cracked an eye open, just barely able to see Hannah in the dark, “What are you doing, it’s...” he tried to wager a glance at the digital clock, before being met by blurry red numbers he didn’t want to take the time to decipher, “...hella early.”

Hannah’s eyes were wide as she tugged gently on his arm. 

“Don’t wake her, ” she whispered, as she gently pulled him from the bed.

“What’s up?” He muttered, rubbing at his eyes as she led him out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Not safe,” she whispered her eyes wide, “Puppet. Fake. Not Lexi.”

He knelt down in front of her,noticing in the dim light of the kitchen that she was fully dressed, “What?”

“Not Lexi,” she whispered frantically, her eyes darting over to the bedroom door, as if worrying at any second that a monster might walk out. 

“What d’ya mean?” he asked, suddenly much more awake, “What d’ya mean, ‘not Lexi’?”

“Not Lexi!” she half-whispered, half-screamed, “Faker! Puppet! Facade!”

“Banana, slow down,” he soothed, “What’s wrong with Lex?” 

“Not Lex,” she insisted, “she’s been hidden...replaced with a puppet. Being here...wearing her skin to fool us.”

Ethan’s heart began to thud in his chest as he understood the weight behind Hannahs words. 

He trusted Hannah with his whole being. Regardless of how weird and crazy her words may have seemed, he knew she was right more often than not, and probably wiser than most adults he’d come to encounter. 

If Hannah was right about this...then he needed to get the two of them as far away from “Lex” as possible. 

Wordlessly he pulled on a pair of shoes and his leather jacket over his pajama sweats, checking over his shoulder to endure that Lex-or whatever Hannah claimed wasn’t Lex- didn’t wake up and follow them out of the apartment. Gently, Hannah took his hand and pulled open the front door slowly, careful to avoid making any creaking noises.

With one last look at the bedroom door, Ethan shut the door behind him and stole into the dim light of the hallway, separating the residential apartments. 

Hannah hastily moved to the apartment door belonging to John and Xander, and knocked quietly. Ethan understood her ends. If anyone could assist them, it would be John and Xander. They were the leaders of this case, and probably knew exactly how to take care of situations such as these. 

If Hannah was right in the regard that Lex wasn’t herself...then they’d know how to fix it, right? 

Surely, they’d know how to bring the real Lex back.

After a few moments, Xander pulled open the door, a small glass of something that smelled vaguely like gin in his hand. His eyes filled with confusion upon looking down at Hannah and Ethan, who were even more confused that he was awake at such a ‘hella early’ time.

“Ethan, Hannah?” he greeted, “Is everything okay?” 

Hannah shook her head vehemently, “No...everything’s wrong.” 

Xander looked up at Ethan, who nodded, “Something isn’t right Xander.” 

Xander looked out in the hallway before opening the door wider, “I think you’d better come in...” he ushered them inside and turned back into the apartment, calling to his husband, “John, you may want to put the alcohol away, we have company.”

Hannah and Ethan all but rushed into the living room of the apartment, and were slightly unsurprised to see John and Tom, sitting on the couch, loose notes strewn about between them. IN both of their hands, they each held a glass of the same alcoholic beverage that they’d seen Xander drinking. 

“Ethan! Hannah!” John greeted with a small, but very obviously tired smile, “What can we do for you?”

“Hey, John...Hannah just-Mr Houston?” Ethan’s words were interrupted as he took note of his teacher, still in a sling from the gunshot wound he’d been afflicted with in the days before. Why was he there at such an early time...and drinking nonetheless.

“Hello, Ethan,” Tom greeted warmly, his eyes betraying a small amount of confusion at the sight of Ethan, “You okay?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ethan muttered, gesturing at the drinks the men held.

“Tom, Xander, and I have been going over what information we can remember,” John explained, seemingly sensing Ethan’s confusion,“We’re just trying to get what intel we can...and the gin takes the edge off.”

“Ah,” Ethan nodded, “Well, you’re gonna want to either put it away or drink a helluva lot more, when you hear what Hannah’s got.”

The men turned to Hannah, who was fiddling nervously with her fingers. 

“Hannah?” John asked her gently, placing his glass gently down on the coffee table, “What’s wrong?” 

“Lexi’s not right,” Hannah whispered, her voice frantic, “Replaced. Puppet. Fake.”

The three men exchanged looks of mixed alarm and confusion. 

“What...what do you mean, ‘Lexi’s not right?” Tom asked, his eyes gentle as he leaned forward. 

“Lexi was replaced,” Hannah explained hastily, keeping her voice low, and glancing over her shoulder, almost as though she was afraid “Lex” would walk through the door at any moment, “Hidden. Puppet walked among us. Watching.”

John stood up and cursed, “Shit…”

“John?” Xander stood, setting his drink down on the coffee table, “What is it?” 

John raised a hand to his face and stroked down his chin, as if he was deep in thought, “I worried about this…”

“Worried about what?” Ethan was filled with confusion, “What does this mean?” 

“I had the slight suspicion that our group had been infiltrated,” John explained, “But i had no idea they’d go for Lex…”

John turned to Hannah, “Do you know when she was replaced?” 

“Three days,” Hannah whispered, tears filling her eyes, “Lexi calling for help...I couldn’t hear it…”

She broke down into tears and sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands, “Couldn’t hear it.”

Ethan knelt down in front of her, “Hey, hey, Hannah, it's okay...it’s okay...you know now...that’s what matters.”

HIs attempts to soothe the smaller girl were unsuccessful as she continued to cry. Dread filled Ethan’s stomach. Why couldn’t she stop. If she was able to figure out that they weren’t in the presence of the real Lex, then they could find the real one, right?

Unless... 

“Hannah…” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as a terrifying thought occurred to him, “Hannah, is our Lexi….is she still alive?”

SIlence filled the room as the depth of that implication struck each of them.

Panic filled Ethan’s heart as Hannah couldn’t answer through her tears. 

Lex couldn’t be dead. 

Lex was strong and a fighter.

She wouldn’t...she couldn’t be dead…

John turned to Tom, “Go wake Paul and Emma, we’re going to need them for this,” at Tom’s nod, John knelt down and placed a hand on Hannah’s shoulder, tentatively as not to startle or overwhelm her, “Hannah...do you know where Lex is?” 

Hannah shook her head, before scrunching her tearful eyes up, as if deep in thought, “Paul does.”

Paul? What did Paul have to do with this?  
“How does Paul know where Lex is?” John asked, his face growing more grave and serious, “Did Paul put Lex there?” 

Sudden anger and suspicion flared in Ethan’s gut. If Paul was secretly the source of the apocaly[tic force that had hurt Lex, Ethan was going to lose his fucking mind. Of course, he wouldn’t put it past the apocalypse to appear in the form of a kind and gentle man. 

Of course, the apocalypse would come in the form of people he trusted. 

His thoughts regarding Paul’s possible involvement were interrupted when Hannah disproved the idea. 

Hannah shook her head, “Paul’s like us. Can hear things.”

Oh. 

_Wait_ , _what_?

John and Ethan shared a confused look before looking down at Hannah, “You mean…” Ethan started, “You mean Paul….he can hear the Black and White, like you can?” 

Hannah shook her head again, “Voices and thoughts...not Black and White...different, but powerful.”

Ethan was confused now. 

“Wait…” he started again, his voice wavering as he failed to understand what Hannah was implying, “Paul’s had this...power this whole time and didn’t tell us?” 

“It’s possible,” John mused, looking down at Hannah just in time to see her shake her head again, “With a bloodline like the Foster’s and his, it would be little to no surprise…” 

“Forever, yes,” she muttered, cutting John off, “Didn’t know. Learned to drown it out.” 

John nodded in something near understanding, “So...Paul learned how to control it...but he could hear it now?” 

Hannah nodded, “He could hear Lexi. Looking for her.”

John sighed, “I shouldn’t have sent Tom to go get them then…” 

Ethan had to resist the urge to stand and find Paul right now to help find Lex. He wanted to find the real Lex so bad. To make sure she hadn’t been hurt or injured. God, when he found out what had replaced Lex with a puppet…

Guilt flared in his stomach as he realized just what had happened. 

Someone had replaced his Lex. His fucking soulmate. And he’d not noticed it. 

He should have, yet he hadn’t. 

To tell anyone the truth, he wished he could find different points in the previous days where anything hadn’t felt right. Where something- anything, really- could have seemed awry. Something indicating to him that the Lex he was with wasn’t the Lex he’d fallen in love with.

Shame built in his chest, making a few tears fall from his eyes. He wiped furiously at them with the back of his hand, trying to keep his focus on Hannah. 

How much of a fucking idiot did you needd to be in order to not recognize the person who’d completed your soul? Better yet, how much of an idiot did you need to be to be unable to recognize the fact that the person you were spending the best times of your day with wasn’t one of the two people you loved more than anything else in the world?

He was snapped out of his self-depreciative thoughts when Hannah closed her eyes suddenly, placing her hands on Ethan’s forearm, gently rocking back and forth. 

“Banana-”

“Shh,” she held up a hand to silence him before opening her eyes, a grave expression on her face, “Found her.” 

His pulse quickened, “What? Found who?”

“Paul and Emma found Lex,” she explained calmly, before her dark eyes widened, a look of alarm crossing her gaze before she screamed.

“ _Get down!_ ”

_BANG!_

She pulled him to the ground, making his face squish uncomfortably up against the floor as the sound of a deafening bang resounded through the apartment, accompanied by the sound of wood cracking and breaking. 

Xander and John pushed over the coffee table, tugging Ethan and Hannah behind it and drawing their weapons quickly. 

When Ethan came to his senses he could sense Hannah, clutching onto him with everything she had, shaking in his arms. Instinctively, he held her back and wagered a peek from out behind the coffee table. 

Xander and John were shouting something into their transponders, their weapons drawn and poised to shoot at the space where their front door once stood. 

In the empty doorway, amidst the crumbling wood and damaged light fixtures that were sparking, he could see the figure of lex, but he now knew it wasn’t her. She was still wearing the pajamas that Ethan and Hannah had left her in when they’d left her sleeping, her hair bearing that bedhead that was characteristic of Lex, but something was different. 

Rather than appearing as she had before, looking like a regular person, her skin had appeared more as though it was made of porcelain, imitating the proper skin tone. Her eyes were a silver color, with a bright orange surrounding her slit-like pupils. The way she stood was stiff, almost like she was a robot waiting for orders. Or more accurately, like she was a puppet waiting at the beck and call of the puppet master, which he was sure was whichever apocalyptic being that was waiting to destroy them all. 

“ _And I thought I was doing so well..._ ” she smiled cruelly as her face cracked slightly to mimic Lex’s smile. The smile he’d fallen in love with. The glimpse of the imitation made his blood boil. 

Her voice was scratchy, taunting and artificial as she continued...

“ _Oh well...the show must go on_.”

\---

“Can you walk?” Paul asked Lex as he and Emma helped her to her feet, propping her up between the two of them.

Lex managed a small nod, before attempting to take a step out of their hold and nearly collapsing to the ground again. Emma caught the majority of aLex’s weight with a small grunt. 

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” he chuckled lightly, before being met by an indignant look from Emma. 

“I can do it,” Lex muttered, her words still groggy and slurred.

“You’ll have to forgive my inclination to not believe you,” he muttered as Emma and he repositioned her arms around their shoulders.

“We’ll get her to John and Xander first,” Emma nodded, as they began a slow stumble back towards the tunnel opening, “They need to know about this tunnel and the fake Lex.”

“Man,” Lex groaned, “Some _bitch_ has been impersonating me?”

“Yep,” Emma nodded as they managed to move less than a foot from where they were previously standing, “Had us all fooled too, sorry.”

Lex cursed under her breath and made an attempt to take another step. A motion her extremely stiff limbs didn’t approve of, “But Hannah and Ethan are okay?” 

“As far as I know,” Paul whispered, “I spoke to Hannah and your double earlier...and she seemed okay then.”

“Good,” Lex whispered as they started to get into a better rhythm, moving slightly faster across the room, accompanied by the crunching of the glass beneath their feet. 

Paul didn’t know what to make of the situation. Everything was all so strange. Somehow, he’d managed to hear Lex begging for help, in spite of her being unconscious, as well as been able to find her. In Hidgens’ lab of all places. 

It was a wonder to him, that he’d not passed out from the panic of the situation alone. The fear that he, Emma, and Lex would be caught by Hidgens almost rivalled the fear of being shot at. 

Now that they had confirmation that Hidgens was involved, and the Lex that he’d been talking to earlier in the day had been... something else, he knew that there was no escaping the coming apocalypse. 

He wagered a small glance over at Emma, who wore an expression of repressed fear as she took in their surroundings, almost as if things suddenly made a lot more sense to her. 

“I fucking knew it…” she whispered under her breath, “I knew he was involved.” 

“What?” he asked her, still trying to keep them all moving, “What do you mean?” 

“He was trying to kill you Paul,” she muttered, looking back at him, her eyes wide, “Back when you were infected...he was looking for a reason to kill you…”

She had told Paul about what Hidgens had subjected him to while he’d been under the influences of the sedative. The insistence that the old man had possessed that Paul was beyond saving. The idea of Hidgens trying to find an excuse to kill him seemed weird, after all, Paul was literally a nobody, but after that conversation with John, it made sense that someone was trying to kill him and Emma. 

How they hadn’t considered the fact that Hidgens might still be the one trying to kill them was something that both seemed laughable and terrifying.

She looked back down, “But why…” she trailed off as her eyes danced across the room, taking in every horrifying detail, “Why does he want to kill us? I mean, we know the Black and White has it in for us, and if he’s been corrupted-”

“ _Wrong_.” 

A crisp, cool voice cut through the room making his blood run cold and his breath hitch in his throat. 

They all whirled around, nearly dropping Lex in the process to see Hidgens, leaning against the wall in a sly, nonchalant manner, a cruel smile on his face. 

He stood and straightened his sweater, clapping quietly as he moved past them. His eyes not falling on them once as he circled them, like a vulture circling a fresh carcass. Paul could feel his heart in his throat, he gently tightened his hold around Emma and Lex, for both giving them a sense of security as well as himself

“Bravo, Paul…” he sneered before looking at Emma, “Bravo to you too, Emma...took you damn long enough.”

“Professor,” Emma spat out the word almost as if it were a curse, “What are you doing?”

“Exactly what needs to be done, Emma,” he responded, his voice calm and serene as he looked at the three, “I’ll admit, though, it’s not anything you would understand.”

Lex muttered a curse and slumped more in Paul and Emma’s grasp.

“This should have been done weeks ago,” Hidgens went on, flicking his fingers and watching as the grey glass cleared itself away, “If you’d just died the moment you started to remember Paul, then I would have won this world by now…”

He turned to Emma,something in his gaze making Paul’s blood boil and yet his veins turn to ice, “But you’re a strong one, Emma, and smart too, I mean you were spot on in your assumption that I was trying to kill Paul...I mean…” he shook his head before his face contorted in a sneer, “It's no wonder the Black and White wants you two dead…”

He looked at Lex, who was dangling limply between Paul and Emma, “And this one,” he gestured to her, “It was so easy to replace her without anyone noticing. I mean...come on! It shows you how much people truly care.”

Anger burned in Paul’s stomach. In spite of his never truly being a temperamental person, the references that Hidgens was making...referring to the three of them like they were mere pawns in a game no one but he knew he was playing, made him experience a kind of cold fury he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced before. 

“Professor,” he kept his tone even, “This isn’t you...you’ve been corrupted by a force of the Black and White, but we can-”

Hidgens laughed. A horrible, taunting sound that made Paul quake in his knees and hold Emma and Lex tighter. 

“I’m afraid, that’s where you’re wrong, Paul…” Hidgens trailed off, a smug smile growing on his face, reminding Paul of the old How the Grinch Stole Christmas cartoon, or the smile of an arsonist looking with pride upon a fire they set. 

“You see…” Hidgens threw up his hands with dramatic gusto as he circled them, making them stumble backwards slightly, trying to get as far away as they could, “You’re right when you say that I am involved with the Black and White’s...well...dirty dealings, as it would seem...but I’m not corrupted.”

Emma laughed humorlessly, “Oh? So you’re a maniac then?”

Hidgens laughed along with her, his smile growing predatory, making Emma shrink back slightly, one of her hands grasping gently at Paul’s forearm behind Lex’s back.

“Emma...sweet Emma, you amuse me,” he chuckled, looking down and inspecting his nails in a manner that seemed inappropriate for his next words.

Words that almost drained Paul of any hope for escape.

Words that made him clutch Lex and Emma tighter. 

Words that made him try to find any possible escape route in spite of the knowledge that it would be to no avail.

“You see...I don’t need to be corrupted by a force of the Black and White,” Hidgens grinned crazily. 

“I _am_ a force of the Black and White.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...it's really hitting the fan.  
> Hidgens is much more of a threat than we realized, huh?
> 
> Please leave comments and/or kudos if you liked this chapter (and if you want to, theres no pressure)!! It really means a lot!!!
> 
> AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! HAVE A FANTASTIC DAY!! :) :)
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	40. The World is a Place Where the Villains Wear a Smile on Their Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidgens does some evil monologukng while everybody attempts to not get killed. Featuring Emma Perkins being Done With It ™
> 
> (I also like to call this the ‘Everyone gets Yeeted’ chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title for this comes from the song “Hell to Your Doorstep” from the Count of Monte Cristo musical (WHICH SLAPS YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO IT) 
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!: Injury, fire, suffocation

Reset No. 6

Date: August 27th, 2018

Being of Facades

Lex had been having a day.

Or perhaps it was a week, depending on how long she’d apparently been missing and replaced by some strange but convincing imitation of her.

The last thing she remembered was that night in the lab with the loud roar of the air conditioner that had almost deafened her...which turned out to not be an air conditioner at all, rather one of the monsters from the Black and White. Something she’d once scoffed at the idea of existing had taken her body and...hidden it in glass? All the while a weird version of herself danced in front of the others like it was actually her. The thought was nauseating and just _fucked up._

Even more fucked up, however, was the fact that one of the aforesaid monsters from the Black and a white was claiming to be standing right in front of her as she hung limply between Paul and Emma like a rag doll. 

“ _What the fuck, Hidgens?!?_ ” Emma exclaimed, her voice growing uncharacteristically shrill, disbelief lining her every feature.

“I’m afraid you’re wrong about that too, Emma dear,” the offending old man smirked, “I’m afraid Henry Hidgens has been quite dead for a long time.”

Nobody said anything as the words hung in the air for a long time.

“In 1978,” the old man went on, almost as though he was an actor delivering a monologue- or perhaps a cheesy comic book villain, which would be more accurate to the situation, “Henry Hidgens and a team of young scientists with whom he shared a deep friendship, ventures into the Black and White to study it...none of them returned.”

He grinned before continuing, “You see, myself, and the other beings of the Black and White hadn’t tasted human blood in ages...we gorged ourselves on their flesh and blood so quickly, but as I saw opportunity in this puny human flesh,” he straightened out his sweater again and looked at his weathered hands that somehow remained delicate in their age, “So...I raised a little hell by inhabiting this body, once I’d consumed his life, and walked through the portal into this world...which unfortunately didn’t agree with the fabric of this reality…”

He grinned again, “I mean, it is unlikely that Hatchetfield was ever normal to begin with...but when I emerged as Henry Hidgens…”he let out a low whistle, “I emerged in a body that wasn’t ready for power like mine...meaning a great deal of my true form, memories of what I am, and power was left behind...instead when I would try to accumulate followers I came off as a lunatic old man...until of course, the past reset gave me just the right opportunity…”

He chuckled again, “I didn’t remember exactly _what power_ I held until it returned to me,” he looked at Paul, “I have your return to thank for that.”

Lex glanced up at Paul, who’d gone pale.

“You see,” Hidgens smiled, “When Apatha tried to make you her muse again, she unwittingly gave me the perfect cover for a great deal of that leftover power and memory to return to me, supplying me with what I needed for my turn in the game to begin,” he paced over to where Emma had kicked the Black Knife away, picking it up with a pensive smile, “Then Paul was infected…” he trailed off into laughter, crazed and chilling, making every muscle in Lex’s body want to bolt for the tunnel, “And it should have been _really_ easy to kill him there…”

His face grew angry, “Unfortunately I forgot about humanity’s capacity for stupidity...and you all vouched to keep him alive and there was only one way I could kill him without any suspicion falling to me…” he turned to Emma, his eyes narrowed “I thought I had eliminated any and all chances for error in my plan to kill him by keeping _you_ away, but that _stupid_ Barnes woman was more observant than I gave her credit for.”

He inspected his nails once more, frowning down at them with a look of contempt, “You know, Emma, if you’d just died when you were trying to remember him, all of this would have been so much more easier.”

Emma and Paul’s faces filled with a mix of fear and rage. 

“Why do you want them dead?” Lex asked, confused more than anything else, “Better yet, why would you take the time to hijack my brain and place a duplicate of me when everything would have been easier if you just committed a few murders?”

Hidgens frowned at her, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there to begin with.

“He doesn’t wanna get his hands dirty,” Emma sneered, sarcasm attempting to mask the fear that was still very much evident, “It's too much for a demon from the Black and White to handle, and take life himself.”

After a few moments of terse silence, a horrifying smile crossed Hidgens’ face. He laughed in response, making Paul and Emma shrink back somewhat, half-dragging Lex with them, “Oh, Emma, there are reasons you were my favorite in every reset, you have some true spirit, you know?” 

Emma didn’t respond. Instead, she guided Lex further away from the old man, pulling Pual with them. 

“It's because of that…'' Hidgens continued with a retrospective look across his ice blue eyes, which were appearing more silver by the second, “...that your and Paul’s bond is something of a curiosity. Yours is a restless, wandering soul, while his…” he chuckled, “Well, his is a soul that desires only what is stationary...yet the two of you managed to defy the laws of the Black and White in a way that allowed you to free three souls that the Black and white had claimed for itself.”

“I didn’t do that,” Emma murmured, “You helped us for the most part…”

“Yes, but remembering them remained mostly on you,” Hidgens interrupted, “Xander and Lex couldn’t have regained even the slightest inclination of who these people had been to them if you didn’t remember Paul...which makes it even more thrilling.”

He shook his head in mock disbelief, “I mean, you were remembering someone who had never existed in this reset...and in turn you were restoring their memory to this world. You, of all people!” 

He laughed again. Lex looked up to study Emma’s stony gaze. 

With a shudder, Lex remembered how awful Emma had looked when she was remembering. The way her body had been rejecting everything in the pursuits of memories from another lifetime. The black blood that had drained from her eyes, her nose, her ears. The way she resembled a corpse more than she did a human being. The way she kept dying over and over again. 

She wagered a small glance up at Paul, who had gone paler than before, his eyes bulging with a pain that could only come from remembering. With a pang in her stomach, she wondered if Paul had been there when Emma had died. Hannah had claimed that he was there, and Ethan said they could see and hear things that Lex and Hannah could...so if Paul was there then he’d seen everything. 

He’d watched her die.

Lex couldn’t imagine witnessing something like that. Judging from Paul’s face alone, the memory was exceedingly painful. Emma’s death as itself had been something that was horrifying to witness in itself, even if it hadn’t been permanent and Lex hadn’t known her as well.

Hidgens shook his head and chuckled, “Thanks to you, Lex here was able to identify John, Ethan, and Paul’s souls and pull them free from the Black and White, inadvertently allowing a great deal of my power to return...now all I needed was the proper puppet and the proper scene to set.”

He inspected the Black Knife in his hands, “You see...once I’d managed to replace Lex I was able to use her double as a perfect distraction. She fed you the incorrect data while gathering information from you while I used the real Lex’s power to retrieve this…” he held up the blade, looking at it closely, “Not that you’d know what this is…”

“Professor, please,” Lex choked, unsure of what she was pleading with him for, “Please don’t…”

“Don’t what, Alexandra?” The old man sneered, holding the knife up dramatically, “Bring about a perfect world? Don’t establish a world where the meek will never have to suffer at the hands of another human being?”

“Because they’ll be suffering at your hands?” Paul suggested fearfully, his eyes filled with a look of visceral fear and confusion.

Hidgens laughed and threw his head back, “They won’t know they’re suffering...not when I’m the maestro…” he held out his hands dramatically and whipped them around emphatically as if he was engaged in some sort of alien dance. Continuing on as though he was reciting Shakespeare, “The conductor of a perfect symphony...a perfect song and dance where the world exists in harmony. A song I wrote for a universe in need of...perfection.”

“Oh, God,” Emma groaned, she turned to Paul, an almost joking look in her eyes, “It’s another Apotheosis.”

Hidgens look wavered in an almost cartoonish way, “Um...no…”

“You’re a singular force from the Black and White with an affinity for musicals?” Emma nodded at him.

“Well...yes…”

“You can use energy to essentially control the actions of puppet-like versions of people?” She gestured to the grey glass and Lex’s still-slouching figure hanging off of her arms, “Because that’s what it clearly looks like you can do…”

“Yes,” Hidgens nodded impatiently.

“A-And you keep making allusions to your power being like a performance!” Paul began, his face pale but a hint of disgust that Lex could not read was clearly lurking in his wide blue eyes, “Where no one has any free will and... _oh, God…”_ he turned to Emma, looking sick to his stomach, “It’s totally another Apotheosis....”

 _“It is not another Apotheosis!”_ Hidgens shouted, making the three of them jump and regaining their attention in the process of doing so.

Hidgens exhaled sharply and straightened, standing tall and rigid, reminding Lex of those old statues in Oakleigh Park of some of the first settlers. Solemn and stiff. Like they were desperately trying to conceal that they had a stick so far up their asses it was probably stabbing into their lungs (Ethan’s analogy to Hannah on the occasions they’d go to the park to escape Pamela’s drunken rage).

Hidgens looked from the knife to the trip that stood paralyzed with fear before him, regarding them with a cruel and cool gaze.

“It’s sad really,” he began, playing with the knife in his hands nonchalantly, “I wanted you three, and your co-conspirators to be alive to see my dominion, to dance through a perfect life...but you could cause many problems for me…”

Lex’s heart picked up pace, as she considered his words. In some ways, something about the way he’d said them didn’t sit correctly with her.

 _Co-conspirators_? 

As she considered the weight of his tone and verbiage, she wondered what he could mean by co-conspirators. Did he mean agents of PEIP? What did they ever do to endanger Hidgens? Of course, she didn’t know the circumstances that had led up to the shooting that apparently had transpired the day before.

Or perhaps he meant their small circle of people that had been investigating him discreetly...

_Oh shit._

_That meant Mr. Houston, John, Xander, Becky…_

People who had given her a greater sense of family than her mother could have ever been able to provide. People who had loved her and Hannah in more ways than anyone else, besides Ethan, had. People who had made her feel safe and secure, with no judgement pertaining to the shitty life she’d left behind. People who had made her, Hannah and Ethan…

Hannah and Ethan...

_Oh._

_Oh_ fuck.

_God, no._

_That included Ethan and Hannah._

Desperation consumed her as Hidgens continued to speak. Every fiber of her being was demanding that she do something- _anything_ \- that would potentially spare the people she’d come to love and accept...but no pleas or protests came to her mind. Rather, she felt like a limp rag doll. Unable to do anything as the world kept moving on.

Hidgens held up the knife, “Paul, Emma, Alexandra…” he bent over and circled his other wrist in a form of mock bowing that infuriated Lex, but could prompt no movement or sounds from her.

“Adieu.”

\---

“Shit!”

Xander cursed and threw his empty magazine to the side and grabbed another loaded one from the concealed part of the couch. He had laughed when John had insisted that they conceal loaded magazines all over their quarters, shortly after he’d gotten back from the Black and White. Now, the idea was a life saver. Literally, they were doing what they could to keep what wasn’t Lex occupied until they could find a proper exit from the apartment. 

So far, that hadn’t happened.

John tumbled to his side in an expert somersault, pulling Hannah to the side as the energy from the fake Lex splintered the decimated remains of their coffee table.

He covered his eyes to protect himself from the splinters that were flying everywhere.

Hannah screamed and curled in to Ethan who had been crouched behind the now overturned couch. Since the fake Lex had begun to hurl energy blasts at them, he’d wondered what he’d done to piss whoever placed the fake Lex among them off. 

Strangely enough, Xander was mostly just annoyed. 

Rather than appropriately fearing for his life, he was more peeved at the fact that they had no plan and destruction was ensuing as a result. He knew it was by sheer dumb luck that they were all still alive, in spite of Lex clearly being capable of destructive power beyond his imagination. So, what was holding her back?

The sound of cracking wood echoed in his ears as a cabinet door from their small kitchen area was ripped free from its hinges and was thrown back into the wall, breaking and sending more splinters showering over them. 

John murmured something under his breath about wondering where Tom was. 

Xander wished he could come up with a sardonic answer that would probably have been inappropriate for the situation, but he couldn’t think of anything as more glass broke.

Well, if they somehow managed to survive this, they were going to have to get really good at home repair. 

He wagered a brief glance over at Hannah and Ethan, who were clinging onto one another like their lives depended on it. Hannah’s eyes were squeezed shut, as if trying to block out everything she was hearing. He wished he could do something- _anything_ \- to get the noise to stop for her. 

“John we need to- _AHH!”_

As he opened his mouth to speak, an invisible force picked him up from his place on the ground and slammed him back down, as if he were a sort of basketball. 

Pain flared in his vision and his head ached as he made contact with the splinter-littered floor. He could feel the warmth of blood running down his face as stars danced in his vision. 

He’d been brought down hard. 

He wasn’t even granted a moment to gather himself as he was raised once again, and instead slammed down against the granite counter tops of the kitchen, flying through the air as if he were a speck of dust. As he was brought down on the counter top, he could have sworn he felt something in his chest crack...perhaps a rib. He felt groggy as the pain ripped through him ceaselessly. His gun was no longer in his hand. 

He tried to scramble off of the slab, but found himself being dragged onto the floor, pain exploding in his sides. 

He opened his eyes and saw that John was gently holding his wrist, pulling him away from the energy. 

The ringing in his ears was excruciatingly loud as he saw John mouthing words he couldn’t hear. His voice was muted as the pain made itself known. Xander couldn’t understand anything that was being said to him. 

Everything hurt so bad. 

In John’s usually steely eyes, he could see worry and pain as John shouted something unintelligible. 

Around them, more splinters erupted from the room, where furniture was getting destroyed. 

“-an you hear me? Xander?” John pleaded with him, his voice sounding like it was under water. 

“Ugggghhh,” was all that Xander could manage to say. His ribs ached as he pushed himself into a sitting position, every muscle in his body complaining. 

“Careful” John gently whispered, using his hand that wasn’t holding a firearm to lean Xander against the wall, “You okay?”

Xander shook his head, pain hazing everything he could sense. 

John hissed as more wood exploded near them, scratching against the skin. He raised his gun quickly over the counter and pulled the trigger, but cursed loudly when a mere click answered him.

John threw aside the weapon as scrambled to grab Xander’s from wherever he'd dropped it earlier on...frantically searching for something he couldn't find that would be useful. 

With another deafening bang, Xander lurched forwards, curling in on his sore ribs to protect himself from a shower of glass that was coming from God only knew where. He groaned and pulled himself in the direction of John, who'd expertly crouched over to shield himself from the shards that were curing into the exposed skin of his arms.

When Xander managed to reach John, he grabbed his arm and pulled him back, away from the areas where different angles of flying glass and wood would strike him, looking over at the space behind their now beaten-up couch where Ethan and Hannah were still concealed.

He pulled John up to look at him. Cupping his face in his hands, he examined John’s face, “John. John look at me!”

Frantically, Xander tried to get his husband to snap out of his reverie of shock. The green eyes that Xander had fallen in love with seemed so far away from where they were now. The pain in his side grew with his movements, making Xander grit his teeth and lean against the mostly decimated cabinets.

As another crash sounded, John's eyes widened, as if he remembered suddenly where exactly he was.

“You with me, John?” Xander grunted through his gritted teeth.

After a few more looks around their surroundings, John nodded, “Always, Xan.”

The crashing and banging within their house grew louder, sending sparks flying around the room, making Xander flinch.

He moved closer to John, unsure of what else to do. John’s weapon was empty, his was missing. His ribs ached as John readily accepted his hand, holding it in a form of pseudo comfort as defeat settled into the room. Everything was so confusing. In a mere matter of moments, they were getting their asses handed to them by a being that wasn’t even trying to kill them. All she was doing was...tossing them around. 

That got Xander thinking. 

What was the fake Lex trying to distract them from? And why was she leaving them alive to do it?

He glanced over at Ethan and Hannah, who were sitting so close to one another, he would have thought they were one person. Ethan’s expression was unreadable as he held Hannah close protectively. Like she was the most precious thing in his life. He was staring off into nothingness as the sounds erupted around them, like he was frozen in the way that John had been moments before. 

Reluctantly, Ethan turned, his eyes widening as they fell on Xander and John, who were in a position that might as well have given the impression that they were defeated. 

Surely, if they were such a big threat to the Being that sought to destroy them, then Lex (or rather, her doppleganger) would have been able to fill them with a mere wave of her hand. Which made Xander wonder...what was the puppet waiting for? 

_CRACK!_

Suddenly, the sound of porcelain shattering erupted throughout the room, bringing the sounds of destruction to an eerie halt. The roar of the false Lex’s energy ceased and the room was in complete and total silence, save for the bated breath of its inhabitants. 

“Hello...Xander? John?” 

“Mr Houston?” Ethan almost whimpered, his voice shaky and fearful.

Xander pushed himself up to see Tom Houston standing in the doorway, a large wooden plank in his hand. At his feet, there lay a shattered mass of glass and china that resembled the figure of what had been attacking them mere moments before. 

Shakily, Ethan scrambled out from behind the mass of fabric and wood that had once been John and Xander’s sofa, still holding a tiny and scared Hannah in his arms. 

“Shit, Ethan…” Tom muttered, dropping the wooden plank and moving forward to hug the boy, “Are you hurt?” 

Ethan shook his head, looking like he was about to cry, “Just a little banged up, but...we’ll be okay.” 

Tom nodded and looked down at Hannah, whose face was still buried in Ethan’s shoulder, “Is she okay?” 

Ethan shook his head, as if conveying that the question was one that he had no answer to. In some ways, Xander admired the boy’s strength. In the past few months he’d been brought back from the dead and returned to his family, only to be shot at, lose his girlfriend without his knowledge, be attacked by the girlfriend’s doppelganger and not know whether or not he would live to see another day. In addition to that, he was still recovering from the head injury and broken ribs he’d sustained in the days before he’d been stuck in the Black and White. Whether or not he’d admit it to himself, Ethan Green was one tough son of a bitch. 

John shakily pulled himself to his feet, drawing the attention of Tom, who rushed forward to help him stand, “You guys alright?” 

“Yeah,” John nodded, “Xander took a bad hit, so he may need to go see Phillipa.” 

Xander shook his head, holding his hand out for Tom to take and help him stand up, “I’m fine...probably just some bruised ribs, but I’ll live.” 

John snorted humorlessly, as if he didn’t believe him but was too tired to pose any argument, and turned to look at Tom, “What took you so long?” 

“Paul and Emma’s apartment is on the other side of the compound, ” Tom explained wearily, “When I got there, they weren't there. I had to break down the door…”

He nodded at the makeshift club that he'd used to subdue the false Lex, “I kept the piece of wood and made my way back here…found that all hell had broken loose and whacked the psycho upside the head...and she just... _crumbled._ ” he looked up,his eyes suddenly filled with a form of worry “I worry something happened to them...Paul and Emma, I mean.”

“Found Lexi,” Hannah murmured, drawing Xander’s attention away from the pain in his head and ribs, “Found the real Lex.” 

“What?” Tom looked very confused, “How?’ 

“Long story short,” Xander grunted, propping himself against the decimated remains of the counter as he got used to the ache of his chest, “Paul has abilities like Lex and Hannah…and that helped him find Lex.”

John knelt so that he was eye level with Hannah, “Hannah, ” he asked gently, ”Do you know where they are?”

Reluctantly, the girl raised her head as nodded, pushing herself free of Ethan’s grasp.

She wiped at her eyes and held Ethan's hand tightly.

“Dangerous, ” she muttered seriously, “Bring weapons.”

She closed her eyes briefly before turning to look up at Tom, “Is Tim safe?”

Tom’s face wavered in surprise at the question, “Yeah...he’s with Becky...He’s okay.”

She seemed to be satisfied with the answer and nodded, “Good...now follow.”

With that, she straightened herself and set off through the remains of John and Xanders front door.

Quickly, Xander watched as John scrambled to the side cabinet and withdrew two loaded firearms and extra magazines, placing them both in his holster.

Expectantly, Xander held out his hand, to which John scoffed. 

“Xander,” he said carefully, disbelief in his voice, “You're not serious…”

“I’m coming, John,” Xander affirmed, standing taller, “You’re not leaving me out of this.”

“Xander,” John spoke a little more forcefully, “I’m pretty sure you've broken a few ribs.”

“So?” Xander challenged, “I seem to recall a broken leg not stopping you in Bahrain! Double standard, John.”

“Xan, please,” John sighed, “Go see Phillipa.”

“Paul, Emma, and Lex first, then Phillipa.” 

John brought a hand to his head as if he was gaining a headache from this conversation alone, “You’re a piece of work, Lee,” he sighed in defeat, “You know that?” 

“I do,” Xander nodded with a grin as he pulled one of the guns John had placed in his holster into his own, “But if I wasn’t, I wouldnt be your best field agent.”

In spite of his clear annoyance, John’s face betrayed a small smile, “I’m not sure that’s how that works...but you’re right...somehow.”

“I know,” Xander smiled, holding out his hand to take John’s in his own, “Together?” 

With a light laugh, John held out his hand, gently taking Xander’s in his. Smiling down at the sight of their intertwined fingers. As they followed the group slowly out their door, he could only smile as John affirmed the words they’d exchanged the day they’d gotten married. 

“Together.” 

\---

Paul rolled underneath a lab table as glass exploded above him. In their scramble to move away from where Hidgens had been viciously attacking them, he realized with a painful throb in his heart that he'd lost track of Emma and Lex. 

He cursed under his breath. 

As soon as Hidgens had told them goodbye, in a very over dramatic fashion, a burst of black and silver light had burst forth from his hands, knocking all three of them to the ground. Emma had managed to scramble to her feet, pulling Lex’s limp form with her and getting Paul to his very shaky feet. They’d spent the past few moments trying to dodge his energy, only to be thrown about the room like they were autumn leaves. 

The places where he’d landed on the glass had left many scrapes and cuts in his flesh that made him feel sore and bruised all over, which was slightly odd to him. Still, he was too afraid to consider the implications of this, and focused more on locating Emma and Lex. 

Since Hidgens had apparently decided to reveal his power at the most inconvenient moment, the lab he and Emma had discovered had been mostly torn apart. Lab tables and equipment lay broken and useless across the room, strewn about like toys a child might leave behind after playing with them. 

As he surveyed the room, he was able to make out the figure of Hidgens standing now near his podium, the black knife still in his hands. However, unlike the state of near-normalcy in the man’s appearance, the man’s eyes had turned a shade of black that shook Paul to the core, as he was reminded of the darkness of the Black and White. In addition, black veins had formed all over his face, resembling tentacles or spider webs, which made his hair stand out against his pale skin. Though his eyes might as well have been carved from onyx, Paul was sure he could see a streak of madness in them, like a flickering of a candle in a distant window.

The old man’s head whipped around as if he was sensing things, prompting Paul to go very still as he waited and watched.

The old man paced gracefully across the floor, like a dancer knowledgeable of poised and elegant steps. Each step he took was accompanied by the sickening crack of the glass shards from before, being crushed further underneath his feet. The sound made Paul’s teeth chatter and made him cringe.

He wasn’t sure if he was legitimately hiding away from Hidgens successfully, or if Hidgens was merely humoring him for the drama of it all, which Paul wouldn’t have put past the man.

“You know, it’s funny,” Hidgens crooned, pacing throughout the room in a predatory stance, “I would have thought higher of you than to hide like a bunch of cowards.”

Hidgens was a fool if he thought that wounding pride was gonna draw any of them out. Paul certainly wasn’t gonna risk his hiding spot just to prove to someone that he wasn’t a coward. Was that so cowardly? Well, Paul was willing to call it strategy, but the fear was most definitely there.

He scanned what he could see of the room with his eyes, searching for any sign of Lex or Emma.

Where had they gone? 

He’d last seen her while she was pulling them toward the tunnel, right? Before Hidgens had knocked them away to prevent their escape.

From the angle at which he was crouching, he couldn’t see much other than Hidgens and broken glass, a combination that both scared him and made him feel like one of those characters from _Jurassic Park_ , just waiting for the dinosaur to get you.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of movement underneath another lab table. He dared to move just a little. Only enough to allow himself to see what it was.

Though the angle wasn’t great, he could make out Lex and Emma’s shoes and legs, close together as if Emma was holding on tight to the weak and obviously frightened Lex. His heart aches for the girl who was his cousin in some way. She’d been stolen from her sister and boyfriend and the adults had all been too careless to realize it. She’d hardly been able to walk when he and Emma had pulled her from the glass. He could only hope she wasn’t in any pain of any kind.

“Well,” Hidgens snapped, his voice interrupting Paul’s thoughts and making him jump, “I could sit here and play Hide and seek with you for the rest of your miserable little lives, but I’m on a time constraint, and games _were_ more Wiggly’s speed anyway…”

With a roar of thunderous wind, all the remaining lab tables were lifted into the air and sent flying, smashing into the nearby wall, revealing Paul, Emma, and Lex’s hiding places. 

Hidgens grinned, his upper lip curling back in a sneer, “Found you.” 

With another whoosh of energy, Paul was sent flying back in a soundless scream, smacking his head on one of the planks of wood from the tables. He could hear the sound of his name coming from somewhere in the room. He couldn’t quite place the voice, however, in his delirium. Maybe it was Emma’s...he wasn’t sure. 

His vision spun as pain exploded in his skull, making his ears ring as he recognized the feeling of blood running down his face. 

Everything was so bright as he cracked open an eye and saw the figures of Lex and Emma, sprawled out across the floor a few feet away from him. Emma was the first to push herself up, scrambling frantically to pull Lex on her knees before moving over to where Paul sat groggily.

Through the light ringing in his ears, he could hear Emma saying his name as she helped him sit up, pulling him closer to her before freezing, her brown eyes widening as she turned to face the Being that approached them. 

Hidgens stood over them, a cold sneer on his face as he regarded them. In his eyes, there was a glint of mockery as the black veins grew and writhed beneath his skin. He didn’t seem to mind this as he seemed to radiate black and silver energies. In his hand which now resembled those of a corpse or skeleton, he held the black knife, turning it around in his fingers as if it was an ink pen of sorts.

Emma pulled herself closer to Paul, not letting go of Lex’s hand in a protective manner as she glowered up at her former teacher. 

“Hidgens,” she spoke through her gritted teeth, but in her dark eyes Paul could see deeply-rooted fear as her eyes darted between the knife and the man holding it, “Y-You don’t have to do this…”

With what strength he could manage, Paul pushed himself forward, pulling Emma closer to him, reaching for Lex’s hand as well as he did. 

“On the contrary my dear,” Hidgens spoke calmly, “I do...you’ve seen my tunnel...you know what I have. You could deduce what my ends are...I have no choice but to…”

_BANG!_

Paul flinched and pulled Emma close to him as the sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the room, squeezing his eyes shut as he did. Lex let out a small scream and scrambled a little ways away in reflex, in spite of the stiffness of her limbs. He half expected to find himself bleeding from a gunshot wound with as much pain as he already was in, but when he opened his eyes, there were no new wounds to be found. On him or either of the girls. 

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or even more fearful.

Carefully and hesitantly, he glanced up at Hidgens, whose black sweater had suddenly become soaked in an ever growing puddle of silver, shining against the black material. He regarded it with a nonchalant eye roll. 

“Here we go…” he murmured before turning on his heel to face the tunnel. 

From where he and the others were crouched, Paul could make out the figure of John, Xander, Tom, Ethan, and Hannah, all of whom were standing at the mouth of the tunnel, regarding it with both awestruck wonder and fear. In Tom’s hand there was a smoking gun. 

“Dr. Hidgens,” Tom began gruffly, his voice assertive, “PLease step away from my sister-in-law.” 

Hidgens froze for a moment before a creepy smile, which sent a shiver up Paul’s spine grew across his face. 

“Oh...and I thought I was doing so well…” 

With a wave of Hidgen’s bony fingers, the old man sent Tom flying across the room and into a pile of broken wood with a deafening crash. 

“Tom!” John shouted, before turning to Hidgens with fury in his eyes, “what are you?” 

“A God,” Hidgens sneered. 

Xander raised his weapon to take a shot, when suddenly Hidgens’ figure began to smoke. In the blink of an eye, the old man dissipated into a cloud of black vapor, which swirled about the room before disappearing.

For a moment, the room stood still. Everyone staring at one another, unsure of what to do, befor Emma slid off to the side and cupped Paul’s face. 

She traced her fingers gently over the gash in his head, looking at it with concern, “Are you okay?”

He took her hand in his and squeezed gently, “Yeah…”

Her eyes softened as they filled with tears. With a small sigh, he pulled her into his arms, hating the way they were both shaking against one another. He could tell they’d both been scared for their lives and the tears that they were trying so desperately to stifle were leaking through all the same.

“ _LEXI!!!”_ Hannah shrieked, bounding across the room, trailed close behind by Ethan.

Lex weakly propped herself up, tears forming in her eyes as Hannah careened into her sobbing loudly. Ethan fell to his knees beside them and pulled the two girls into his arms, crying as well.

Paul couldn’t hear what words were exchanged between the trio as Xander suddenly yelled from across the room.

“Guys, help us with Tom!”

Paul and Emma snapped out of the hug and rushed over to the debris where Tom was laying limply on top of a sharply broken lab table.

“Tom!” Emma shouted as Paul went to help Xander and John pull him off of the damage.

The scent of blood was nauseating to Paul, as an unconscious Tom was pulled free from the remains of the lab. His shirt was soaked with blood and was growing all the more bloody with each passing second. John grabbed a cloth from the ground and pressed it to the man’s side where a gaping wound in the flash had been left.

“We’ve got to get him to the infirmary, John,” Xander whispered as they half-dragged Tom back towards the tunnels, “He’s losing blood fast.”

“Lex should probably see Dr Abadi, too,” Emma chimed in, casting a worried glance over at Lex who Ethan was half-carrying, half-dragging, “I think we should at the very least know what Hidgens did to her.”

“I agree,” John huffed “And Xander should get looked at, so should Paul with that knock on the head.” 

Paul raised a hand tentatively to the wound on his head, part of him had been subconsciously ignoring the sharp throb that signalled that damage had been done, but as his fingers gently traced the outside of the wound, he knew it was a lot worse than he originally thought. 

Emma nodded in concurrence, “Lets get them out of here, then,” she turned over her shoulder and looked at Ethan, “Can you carry Lex? Her legs are super weak, and I’m not sure she’s...all there.” 

“...M’ never all there…” Lex slurred, before slumping further down from the place where she was hanging off of Ethan’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, sure babe,” Ethan chuckled, his eyes still filled with tears as he gently let go of Hannah’s hand to scoop Lex into his arms. Part of him looked relieved to have the real Lex back in his arms, but Paul could see deeply-sown worry in his eyes. 

Hannah paced towards them, her dark eyes staring off into nothingness as she looked deep in thought. 

He knelt down beside her, “Hannah? Is something wrong?”

“Smoke…” Hannah whispered, her eyes turning to him with knowledge he could never understand, “Listen…” 

“Hannah I don’t…” 

_“Please!!Someone help us, Please!!”_

The loud noises returned to his head as a familiar and extremely clear voice blared insistently in the confines of his mind. He fell forward, holding his face in his hands. 

The scream had come from someone he’d known. Someone he still knew. 

_“Tim..NO! N-”_

The scream was cut off by a bout of horrific raspy coughing in Paul’s mind. 

“Paul!?” 

Emma ran to his side, holding his arm, worry deep in her eyes “Are you okay?” 

He shook his head as he tried to grasp the words that he’d been hearing. His heart pounded in his ears as fear filled his heart. 

“Fire...” Hannah muttered worriedly, her eyes closing as tears rolled down her cheeks. 

Paul inhaled and exhaled sharply as worry and fear set deep into his veins. He stood and stared down at Hannah, the two of them coming to the same terrifying conclusion. 

“It’s Becky and Tim…” he murmured, his voice shaking, “They’re in trouble.”

—

“Becky, do you think Dad’s okay?”

Becky looked up from the small book she was reading to see Tim, fresh out of bed in his pajamas.

Since Tom had a meeting with Xander and John, Becky had offered to watch Tim for the night as they both possessed memories of a lifetime where they’d allowed Becky into their family.

Of course, it was the obscene hours of the night, and the boy was supposed to have gone to bed hours beforehand, so it was slightly odd to her that he would be up...frankly, it was odd that she’d been up this late, to begin with. 

“Hmm?” she set her book down, “Oh yes, sweetie,...the meeting’s just running a lot later than we thought.” 

Tim didn’t seem to be convinced, “This late?”

Becky nodded, “Yeah….when John and Xander are concerned, time is always of the essence, and work is no exception...I’m sure he’ll be home soon though.” 

Tim nodded, “Okay…”

Her gaze softened. Since she remembered everything about the life she’d had with Tom and Tim, she had a mother-like fondness for the boy. She knew she would never replace Jane, but since she’d bever been able to have her own children (thank God for that, since her marriage with Stanley would have only gotten worse in that case), she’d always treated Tim like he was her son, without ever explicitly saying it. Of course, she wouldn’t want to put him in any uncomfortable position, but one look into those dark eyes and any person with a hint of parental affection in them would have fallen in love with the boy. 

“Do you…” she hesitated, not wanting to overstep any boundaries with him in this new reset, “Would you like to stay out here with me until you get tired...or until he comes back?”

Tim smiled warmly, “Yes, please.” 

She smiled at him and opened her arms to him, allowing him to snuggle under her blanket with her like they used to do on movie nights in the past lifetime. The memories from the past reset had granted her a blessing in allowing her to remember how they’d used to be. She’d be lying if she claimed that her heart didn’t ache for moments like that again, where it would be just her, Tom and Tim happily together...and extremely often, Emma and Paul (both of whom Tim absolutely adored) acting as a family. Of course, that had all been in a past life, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t possible...right?

As he snuggled in close to her, she smiled to herself at the feeling. Tim had always been a kid that loved cuddling. Always eager for a hug or some form of physical affection. She wondered if he wished Jane was still around to hug him when things got rough, or what Jane would do when he was upset. Deep down, she knew it didn’t matter, because she wasn’t Jane. She was Becky and that was enough for Tim and Tom. But she couldn’t help feeling a little self conscious. 

After a while, Tim perked up his eyes filled with confusion. 

“Were you burning a candle or something?” he asked, his voice thoroughly confused as his eye searched the room. 

She raised an eyebrow, “N-No?” 

Tim looked worried, “It...It smells like smoke.”

“Smoke?” she raised her head and began to inhale deeply through her nose, “I don’t-” 

As if on cue, thick black clouds of smoke began to flood the room, coming from a source she couldn’t see. Instantaneously, she felt as if her lungs were being painted from the inside. 

“Tim! Front door, now!” she shouted, coughing as the smoke filled her lungs. 

She threw the blanket off of her and ran for the door, pulling Tim by the hand frantically. She unlocked the door and tugged on it to pull it open...but the door wouldn’t budge. She looked down at what she could see through the thick smoke, but found that the lock was in the right position. 

The door should’ve been opening, and it wasn’t. 

_They were trapped._

Fear gripped her heart as she began to pound on the door, holding a rag to Tim’s face to give him the chance to breathe what fresh air he could. Relentlessly she shouted, “Please! Someone help us! Please!!” 

She pounded her fists against the door, trying to break it down with what strength she could manage, but as smoke continued to fill her lungs, she felt weak. 

“ _BECKY!_ ”

Tim’s frantic scream made her whirl around. Though the light was shrouded in a terrifying darkness, she could just make out the figure of Tim, being held rigidly still against a figure she could recognize as Henry Hidgens...only, it wasn’t Hidgens anymore. His eyes were solid black in their color, and his face was marked with black as tendrils danced beneath his skin. The madness in his eyes was unmistakable. 

“Sorry, Love,” He crooned, holding his hand over Tim’s mouth as tears and snot ran down his terrified face, “But you gotta make sacrifices somewhere...and you? Well...you’re expendable.”

He lifted his other hand and gave her a little ceremonial wave, “Tata, dear. Hope you end up in heaven or...somewhere nice like that.” 

With that, the man disappeared, taking Tim with him and leaving Becky in her own fear. 

_“Tim..NO! N-”_ her scream was cut off by an onslaught of horrific coughing as she began to suffocate. Oxygen was becoming less and less available, and the terror she’d felt for what Hidgens had done with Tim. Relentlessly, she began beating at the door again, even as her arms grew weak and she quickly became unable to breathe. 

She slumped to the ground, tears rolling down her face as she apologized to the world for her sins. 

She wouldn’t apologize for what she’d done to Stanley. 

But she did apologize to the people who mattered so much to her...

She apologized for how she failed Tom. 

She apologized to _Tim_. 

She apologized to Jane. 

She apologized to anyone she felt guilty for hurting over the course of her life. 

As darkness claimed her sight, she could only pray that the world would grant her forgiveness. And in time, that those people would too. 

  
  


She was unconscious just before the door was broken down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. That was fun.
> 
> Sorry this one took so long!! I was traveling for a funeral and my computer didn’t necessarily want to comply, and writing this was just a major grind so thank you for your patience!!!
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos to let me know what you think of this chapter and my yeeting everyone around!!
> 
> *incoming shameless self-plug*  
> So, I’ve started writing a Count of Monte Cristo AU for Paulkins, because I’m a slut for some of the songs from the musical as well as period dramas as a whole. If you are interested in reading said work (for which I have already written three chapters) look for “Let Justice Be Done”. Or, if you want a one shot of the same AU, look for “I Know Those Eyes (This Man is Dead)”. I’ve already posted both, so they should be pretty easy to find. If you do read them, please let me know what you think!! I would really appreciate it!!
> 
> As always...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I HOPE YOU HAVE A REALLY AMAZING DAY!!!  
> 💚💚💚
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	41. Predators Live by The Prey They Pursue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidgens does more evil monologuing for a terrified audience.  
> Emma comes to a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, but for reasons involving the plot I must put Tim through it ™ 
> 
> The title for this chapter comes from the song ”Alive” from the musical Jekyll and Hyde (another musical by Frank Wildhorn that SLAPS)

Reset No. 6

Date: August 27th, 2018

Being of Facades

Tim could feel only fearful as the darkness swallowed him whole, removing him from the smoky apartment. 

When the dark smoke faded away, Tim found himself standing in the middle of a dark forest. Having not been the most outdoorsy of people, he would not have been able to recognize his location anyway. 

He kicked and shoved against the old man, who held him in an iron grip that seemed to never end. He couldn’t stop crying, and felt pathetic as he did. He hated feeling scared and helpless. It was a trait his mother had possessed. She’d told him that it was like her to hate feeling fear. To not be able to have an ounce of control over a situation and hate it was normal, she used to say. Of course, his mother had been a bit of a control freak herself, so she would know better than anyone, right? He always believed his mother would know better than anyone. 

He always believed his mother was in control in every situation.

But in the end, what bit of good had it done her?

With more tears dripping from his eyes, he was reminded of just how much he missed his mom.

God, he just wanted his dad. 

He wanted Aunt Emma and Uncle Paul.

He wanted Becky. 

_Becky._

Tears poured from his eyes as he remembered her terrified face as she tried to get them out of an apartment that he’d been certain was burning. The creepy old man had just left her in the smoke-filled apartment. Like she was nothing. He’d even told her that she was expendable...was that the big word he’d used? 

To him, it didn’t matter because it didn’t change the fact that they’d left Becky for dead. 

God, he hoped Becky wasn’t dead. 

In some ways Becky had become a motherly figure to him when he’d needed it. He still didn’t understand where all these new memories of Becky and his Dad had come from, but he knew that he liked Becky. He knew his dad did too, which was something he didn’t expect. In the memories they shared with Becky, he knew his dad to be happy.

Wouldn’t that be nice? If they were happy?

Tears ran down his face in an endless stream as the old man dragged his struggling form over to a tree. Leaning Tim against it, the old man waved his hand and a stream of grey glass pooled around Tim’s legs, rendering him frozen against the base of the tree.

“P-Please…” Tim begged him, his voice shaking, “L-Let me go...please…”

The old man, whom Tim remembered his name to be Hidgens...something like that, clicked his tongue chidingly, “It’s not that simple, my boy…”

“Wh-Why? Why are you doing this?” Tim asked, tears and sobs cascading from him, “Why-”

“Shh…” the old man soothed, holding out a hand with a grin of mock sympathy, “You’re only here so your Aunt doesn’t try anything stupid.”

“A-Aunt Emma?” Tom whimpered, “What d’you want with m-my Aunt?”

“Oh! That’s simple, really,” Hidgens laughed, a cruel glint in his gaze, “I want her dead.” 

Tim’s heart pounded in his chest as a terrified squeak left him, “ _WHAT?!_ ” 

Hidgens laughed at this reaction. “Auntie Emma and Uncle Paul have been causing some major problems for me...but once I’ve succeeded…” 

He trailed off as if a new sadistic idea had just occurred to him, leaning down so that he was eye-level with Tim, making him shrink back in fear, “Well...once I’ve succeeded, I can bring them here...and you can watch them die!”

Tim began to cry harder as the old man cackled maliciously. He couldn’t bear the idea of watching more people he loved die. 

He wanted his dad.

Where was his dad? 

He muttered to himself, crying for Tom, wherever he was. His dad would know where he was...right? His dad was smart...his dad was the smartest man he knew… His Dad…

“Oh, and another thing, Timothy,” Hidgens turned on his heel, holding a black knife in one hand and his other hand held in another position that reminded Tim of when his mom went to get her nails done, “My condolences…” 

Tim sniffed, “Huh?” 

Hidgens smiled again, “My condolences..for your loss..” 

“Go to hell!” He spat in a tone Aunt Emma would have been proud of, “What do you mean-”

“I killed your father, “ Hidgens grinned, his eyes wide with mad delight. 

Tim’s stomach dropped, “N...no...no…” 

The old man nodded, looking far too pleased with himself, “He spent the last few moments of his worthless life pleading with me...crying out like the weak little coward he was-”

Tim shook his head, “No...No….You’re wrong.” 

“...Begging me to spare him,” Hidgens continued, looming over Tim’s terrified trembling form, “He even offered to give up your aunt and uncle as a sacrifice rather than have me kill him...until I slaughtered him like the pug he was….” 

“Stop it...stop…” Tim whimpered, “N-No...you’re lying…”

“Your father died like he lived,” Hidgens laughed, “A coward.” 

“ _LIAR!!_ ’ Tim screamed, tears streaming in horrifying torrents down his cheeks, “ _YOU’RE A LIAR!!!_ ”

Hidgens smiled cruelly, “Now...what should I do with an orphan...whose aunt is too much of a cowardly ne’er do well-” 

“SHUT UP!!” Tim shrieked, “ _Shut up...You’re a liar!_ ”

Hidgens sat back, clearly satisfied with his doing, “My point is...Timothy, nobody is coming for you...so there’s no point in hoping.” 

“Sh-shut…” Tim muttered in between his heaving breaths and sobs, “S-shut up...you’re a liar…a liar...”

Hidgens snorted and walked over to a large willow tree, tapping against the bark gently, inspecting it closely. He turned over and looked at Tim from over his shoulder, “Did you know, Timothy, that a woman was hanged here over two hundred years ago?” 

Tim didn’t answer, only glaring with tearful hatred at the man. He couldn’t care less about what happened in the past. If the old man was telling the truth, his father was dead.

But it _couldn’t_ be true. 

It couldn’t...his dad was too strong for that. 

He had to be lying...right? 

Doubt filled his chest making his breath hitch and his sobs choke in his throat.

“The woman…” Hidgens continued, “Devoted her whole life to worshipping the forces of the Black and White…”

He looked the tree up and down, regarding it with a sort of reverence, “How fitting that the blood of Willabella Muckwab helped this tree grow…” he turned back to look at Tim, grinning wildly, “How fitting it is that this tree will help restore me to my full power…”

He withdrew the Black Knife from his sleeve and stared at it, inspecting it with a smile. Quickly he began to carve symbols Tim couldn’t recognize into the bark of the tree, humming a tune Tim couldn’t recognize as he worked. As he examined each carving, he kept looking over his shoulder to throw a wolfish grin at the weeping boy. 

As Tim watched the old man through teary eyes, he looked up through the thick canopy of the trees to the grey sky of the early morning, barely visible through the thick branches.

 _Mom,_ he thought in anguish, _help me._

\---

Emma’s heart pounded in her chest as she sat beside Paul, holding his hand as Dr. Hallmark, a wiry young man, wrapped a thick bandage around the gash on Paul’s head. She rapped her feet impatiently against the wood paneling on the side of the exam table, trying to do everything she could to distract her from the anguish and tears that fought their way out from behind her eyes. Gently, she leaned her head against Paul’s shoulder, feeling him shaking. 

She knew what he was thinking about. She was thinking about it too. 

After they’d retrieved Lex and Hidgens had disappeared, a fire had started in the Houston apartment where Becky had been watching Tim. By the time John and what operatives he could rouse had gotten there, at Paul and Hannah’s insistence and broken down the door, he’d found only Becky, unconscious from smoke inhalation, adding to their growing pool of people who required medical attention. 

She’d been brought in shortly after all of them had been in, unconscious and covered in soot. Unconscious, but alive.

The worst part, however, was that there was no sign of Tim. Even after the small fire had been cleared by John and a few operatives he'd managed to rouse. Mercifully, found no body indicating that Tim had died...but that didn't provide any answers as to where Tim was.

When John had given her that report she’d had to stifle every instinct she had that made hereby to run out and keep herself composed. Panicking would do no good.

So, despite the fear and anguish that ran through her blood, filling her with a deeply-rooted need to find her nephew, she remained with Paul. His touch keeping her grounded as she processed the damage that had been done.

Xander had needed stitches and scans for the wounds to his face and ribs. Tom was still in surgery for the gash and damaged tissue from the broken lab table. Paul had needed stitches for the gash on his head, as well as additional diagnostic scanning to make sure that Hidgens throwing him into a wall and then a lab table hadn’t done any serious damage. Lex, in the meantime, had been taken by Dr. Abadi, accompanied by Hannah and Ethan for scans, to survey the damage that Hidgens might have done to her. The girl couldn’t stand unassisted, as she’d been carried the whole way by Ethan, and was lying weakly on a gurney the last time Emma had seen her.

So far, Emma, John, Hannah, and Ethan were the only members of their little group that had made it out of the ordeal unscathed. 

She was relieved that Hannah and Ethan were okay. After seeing them bound over to Lex while they’d still been in the basement, she’d been happy to see the way they’d quickly found and reassured one another. Ethan had been so gentle in the way he’d picked Lex up and carried her to the infirmary, as if he wasn’t going to let Hannah and Lex out of his sight ever again. She couldn’t blame him. Lex had been stolen out from under their noses, and they’d not noticed...they’d been so thoughtless. The fact that Paul possessed a kind of ability that had allowed them to find Lex was miraculous in itself...but what if someone else was taken? Like Tim might have been? What if they didn’t get so lucky in finding them?

The dread that they might never find Tim filled her heart again. As quickly as she could, she attempted to shovel those thoughts away. Wondering how each of their companions were doing with their collective medical trauma. In just a few short days, everyone had been put through the ringer. She’d been lucky she was able to bounce back so quickly on her wounded leg...but Tom was still in a sling from his bullet wound, for God’s sake...and Lord only knew what they were all dealing with psychologically. 

Still, they were all alive. 

It was probably only by a stroke of sheer dumb luck. But they were all still alive. 

“Alright,” Dr. Hallmark murmured to himself, “It doesn’t look like you have a concussion. The CT scans don’t indicate any damage, and you’re not showing the more common symptoms...you should be good.” 

Paul hummed a thank you, his eyes wide as they stared at the wall. 

She glanced up at the Doctor, “Thank you.” 

With that, the man offered a brief nod, before leaving them behind, “You can show yourselves out.” 

He smiled sadly at the pair before pulling the curtained-off doors shut.

In a haze, she pushed herself off of the table, offering a gentle tug on Paul’s hand to help him move. She hated the fact that they ended up in the infirmary way too often. And with what Paul had insinuated about Becky and Tim…

“It's all so loud, Em” he murmured, his eyes filled with tears as he glanced up at her, “I could hear Tim screaming...Becky too...and I couldn’t do anything about it…” 

She took both of his hands in hers, “It's not your fault, Paul.”

He nodded, “I know...I just hate feeling so...useless.”

She squeezed his hand gently, “We’re all feeling pretty useless right now ...”

She trailed off as her thoughts diverted to Tim...wherever he was. A small optimistic part of her hoped that Tim was okay...that maybe he’d been luckier than Becky and escaped the fire before any real damage had been done….but she knew with a sickening thud in her stomach that it was unlikely. 

She knew, somewhere deep in her heart, that Henry Hidgens...or the Being from the Black and White that had been masquerading as him was responsible. 

A kind of fury filled her heart and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blink the fury away. Tom was in surgery. Becky hadn’t been able to breathe when they found her. Lex could barely walk. Xander was broken up badly, from the looks of it...and Paul had been tossed around like he was nothing. 

She felt powerless to do anything about it. And that infuriated her. 

“Emma…” Paul whispered, lifting a shaky hand to cup her face, “We’re gonna get Tim back…for all we know, he got away before Becky could...”

“That’s wishful thinking,” she chuckled humorlessly, a tear slipping from her eyes. She wiped at it furiously, refusing to look up at him, “I just feel so...so powerless.”

“I know,” Paul choked, his voice sounding strained. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, “But we’ll get through this...I know we will.” 

She didn’t know how to respond to that. 

Would they? 

So far, all they’d done was get their asses handed to them and be confused at the same time. If anything, she felt like they were on a one-way track to losing all of their luck. 

She was _terrified._

Paul pressed another kiss to her head and wrapped his shaky arms around her. He didn’t offer her any ‘It’s going to be okay’s, or promises he wouldn’t be able to keep. Rather, he just wrapped her in his arms, allowing her to feel safe...if only for a moment. 

He was afraid too. As soon as John had told them that Tim hadn’t been found anywhere, he’d had to stifle a sound of panic, as she had. Blood had still been dripping from the open wound on his head, as Dr. Hallmark had been helping get Tom prepped for surgery at the time. His grip on her hand at that point had doubled, and in his eyes, she could see a visceral terror at the idea that Tim, a boy Paul had adored from the moment he’d met him, had gone missing. 

God, if that was how Paul would react, she didn’t even want to think about Tom’s reaction. 

Oh, God... _Tom._

Since her brother-in-law had been taken for surgery, she’d tried to focus mainly on Tim. Not allowing herself to fear for what others had control over. She trusted Dr. Kirk, so she knew that Tom was likely in good hands, and would be okay...it was the idea of losing Tim that terrified her. 

Tom had already lost so much...and Tim was his entire world. Though Tom wasn’t necessarily the best at showing it, Emma knew he loved Tim with his whole heart. She knew that if he was given the choice, Tom would die for Tim in a heartbeat...no questions asked...but Tom was already dying before Tim had gone missing...and he had no clue about what was transpiring in the world above. God, she could only hope that Tom was okay…

Paul gripped her tighter, his soft embrace growing slightly desperate in the way he held her. They were both terrified. Neither of them had any idea what the day would bring. All they could do was take it one step at a time...something neither of them was very good at.

Reluctantly, she let out a heavy sigh and pushed herself free of his arms, wiping away at the tears that fought their way out of her eyes, dripping down her cheeks. She held out a hand to help him stand, knowing he would be slightly dizzy from what damage had been done to his head. Despite there being a lack of concussion, he still was in pain. That and the fact that she liked the feel of his arm in her small ones kept her holding onto him. 

“Wanna go check on Becky or Xander?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle as he leaned into her touch.

She nodded, desperate to do anything that could lead her to Tim. If Becky was awake, she would ask her what had happened to her nephew...after she made sure Becky could breathe normally, of course. 

As she and Paul made their way out of their small infirmary room, they took note of the few doctors and nurses that weren’t occupied. Some were tending to the few that were still injured as a result of the shooting...something they now knew Hidgens to be responsible for. 

Once again, the fury rose in her chest. 

Hidgens had done all of this.

Hidgens was responsible for all the pain and strife they’d been put through as soon as they’d managed to free Paul from the clutches of the Black and White...and that had been barely a month ago! It was nauseating to her...that all of this blood was on the hands of someone she’d once trusted. 

A man who was trying to kill her and everyone she cared about. 

“Excuse me, “Paul asked a passing nurse, “Where’s Becky Barnes?”

The nurse said nothing, merely pointing over her shoulder towards another curtained-off door, the exhaustion clear in her eyes. 

“Thank you,” Paul muttered, managing a small smile before going to the curtain and pulling it open slowly. 

“Hey, is it okay if we...John?” 

As Emma made her way up past the curtain, she could see Becky, sitting on a gurney, holding an oxygen mask to her soot-covered face. Her eyes were wide and puffy as tears trailed clear rivers through the black dust. She looked terrified Beside her, sitting on an office chair, was John, who looked as if he was deep in thought. His brow was furrowed deeply as if he was trying very hard to understand something that would inevitably make no sense.

John glanced up at the two of them, his eyes wide and face contorted in a grave expression that made Emma feel queasy, “You guys okay?” 

Emma managed a small nod, while Paul whispered an answer, “Yes, we’re both alright for the most part….Becky, are you okay…?”

Becky flinched, as if she was shocked at being acknowledged, Emma took a step forward and sat down in the chair beside her bed, “Em-Emma...I’m so sorry…” she whispered, her raspy voice choked off as more tears poured from her eyes

“Becky,” Emma asked gently, repeating Paul’s question, “Are you okay?” 

Becky managed a small nod before holding the oxygen mask to her face again. She squeezed her eyes shut as more shaky sobs left her. John held her hand comfortingly, “When you’re ready, Becky...just tell them what you told me...okay?” 

“But not until you’re ready, Becky,” Paul murmured gently, kneeling beside Emma, taking her hand in his as they both anxiously awaited for news of Tim. 

Emma bounced her knee impatiently. While she didn’t want Becky to be any more anguished than she already was, she was impatient for there to be news on her nephew. Her nephew was missing and she wouldn’t rest until she got information...no matter how long she’d have to wait or how hard she had to fight.

After a while, Becky managed to get a hold on herself, removing the mask to speak softly, Emma and Paul leaning in to hear her speak. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Emma…” Becky whispered, her voice sounding painful as she cried harder, sounding almost as if she was in shock, “S-so sorry…” 

“Becky,” Emma asked gently, “It wasn’t your fault….but I need to know...where’s Tim?”

Becky’s eyes widened, “H-Hidgens...Hidgens took h-him...we- we were t-trapped...and I couldn’t-”

She began to cry harder as John squeezed her hand gently. Dread filled Emma’s heart. Gently, she reached out and took Becky’s other hand, squeezing it gently, “Do you know where they went?” 

Tearfully, Becky shook her head, “N-No...but I’m-”

She burst into tears again, trailing more rivers down her cheeks, revealing her skin underneath all of the black dust. 

“Becky,” Emma whispered, “It’s okay..it wasn’t your fault..okay?” 

In spite of the anger that filled her heart, she knew it wasn’t Becky’s fault. Hidgens was the real one to blame. Hidgens was the one who’d taken Tim from them. Hidgens was the one who needed to be brought to justice. 

As she looked at the sobbing form of Becky, covered in soot and shaking miserably, all she could feel was a form of rage she was unfamiliar with. 

Becky was a part of their little makeshift family just as much as Tom, or John, or Ethan. 

Becky loved Tom with her whole being, Emma knew...and while she felt like it would be a dishonor to Jane, she knew that anything that made Tom happy would surely make Jane happy too...right? Therefore, because Tom and Becky were in love with one another, and were willing to fight for everyone else in their group...they were members of their family. 

_Their group was a family_. 

The realization filled her with a strange form of joy, but also great fear. She’d finally found a family that loved her and accepted her. People who were willing to fight for her. And Hidgens was hurting them.

Hidgens had harmed every member of her family. 

The realization hit her hard. Making her grip Becky and Paul’s hands slightly tighter as tears of anger dripped down her face.

She stood, gently withdrawing her hand from theirs. She looked down at Becky, feeling so sorry for the women, “Get some rest Becky, ” she whispered, offering her a tearful smile of what reassurance she could manage before leaving the room as quickly as she could.

Paul followed her out, offering Becky and John a small smile as he left. He placed a hand on her shoulder just as the dam broke, “Em…”

“Hidgens did this, Paul…” she whispered as heaving sobs left her, hot tears rolling insistently down her cheeks, “Hidgens did this and we couldn't- I couldn't…”

A strangled sob left her, hitching in her throat and making her cough as all the compounded emotion she’d been stifling since they'd found Lex came crashing down upon her.

Her chest ached as Paul wrapped his arms around her again, allowing her to stifle her tears and cries into his chest, “A-and now Tom’s in surgery...and he doesn’t know what happened to Tim...and Xander’s wounded...Lex can barely walk… And you...”

She trailed off as more sobs made their way out from deep her throat, sounding strangled and raspy as she cried into his chest. She could feel the warmth of his own tears leaking in through the fabric of her shirt. 

She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. It had happened so many times already...and she couldn’t let it happen again. 

When he’d been sent flying into the lab table back when Hidgens had thrown them all, there had been so much blood that she’d worried that his head had cracked open with as hard as he’d hit it. Mercifully, all he’d gotten was a bad gash and a major headache, which only required stitches and pain meds...but she was sent into a state of uncharacteristic worry. 

She never was much of a worrier...always willing to take one step at a time, rather than fear the things that had yet to come...but when she looked at Paul, all she could think about was the future. He was the key to a future she wanted. A future she never envisioned for herself. And she was dangerously close to losing it all. 

Instead of saying anything more, she just wrapped her arms around him and held him tighter, melting into his warm embrace. The bandages on his head were scratchy against the skin of her neck but she didn’t care. She just needed him at the moment. 

“I know you’re scared,” He whispered, “I am too...but I promise you...we are going to find Tim…”

As she looked into his eyes, she could see that he was completely serious, “I swear to you, Em...Hidgens will pay for what he’s done.”

She nodded, looking up at him with fury and determination in her eyes. Beneath the soft blue of his eyes, she could see an indignant spark towards the circumstances in his gaze as well, and Paul wasn’t a vengeful person. She could tell he was just as angry at what Hidgens had done to them. As they looked at one another, they could feel a silent agreement between the two of them, not to let Hidgens harm their family ever again. 

Hannah and Lex were quite literally his family, and Ethan came with them by default. Tom and Tim were her family, and they already had ties to Xander and John, as well as Becky. Though their group was composed of splintered and broken people, with no real homes they could call their own, they’d developed a sense of kinship. A bond that they’d become determined not to let Hidgens shatter. 

Hidgens had tried to take so much from them...and they were determined to not let it happen again. 

“Guys,” a scratchy voice interrupted their embrace, making them break apart to see Ethan standing beside them. 

Paul nodded at the boy, a gentleness in his gaze, “Do you need something, Ethan?

“Xander is all patched up, and Lex just finished with Dr. Abadi,” The boy whispered, sniffing as if he was desperately trying to keep tears down, “Mr.Houston is still in surgery, but Xander thinks we should go over what we’ve got so far...what Hidgens has done… So we can make a plan and all that shit.”

In Ethan’s eyes, Emma could see a form of rage that she and Paul shared. The word ‘Hidgens’ seemed to bear venom with every syllable. She could understand it as the boy inhaled and exhaled sharply. 

“Xander asked me to retrieve you guys, Johnny, and Becky...so we could go over it,” Ethan explained, wiping away at his eyes, “He’s in Lex’s room right now.”

“How is she?” Emma asked, fighting away at the images of how pitiful Lex had looked when they found her, how weak she was. 

“She’s…” Ethan bit on his lower lip, “She’s alive...but whatever Hidgens did to her used a lot of energy. She’s weak...but she’ll live.” 

“Hannah’s with her?” Paul asked gently, to which Ethan nodded.

“Wouldn't leave her side, ” Ethan laughed bitterly, “I just want them out of the line of fire, so as long as they're together...I’m good.”

The teen sniffed forcefully before looking off to the side, “I...do you know where John and Becky are?”

Paul gestured to the small room behind them and Ethan took a shaky step forward before Paul caught his arm and pulled the teen into a hug, wrapping his arms around him and letting the teen melt into the embrace. Emma went to their side, placing a comforting hand on his back. Over the course of the past month, she’d grown extremely fond of the boy. Between his spirit and his spunk, she understood why Paul had grown so fond of him.

“It’s okay, Ethan,” Paul murmured, “You can let it out.” 

Instinctually, Emma’s hand went to Ethan’s back, rubbing comforting circles up and down it over his jacket. She didn’t know where the instinct had come from, but she knew that Ethan was in need of it, so she kept it up. 

After a while, she could feel the teen begin to tremble as shaky sobs left him. She could tell Ethan had been stifling so much grief and anger as they had, and was in need of as much comfort as he could get. 

“It just...It sucks so much, man,” Ethan mumbled into Paul’s shoulder, as if he were talking to his older brother, “I-I didn’t...I couldn’t-”

“I know,” Paul muttered, “But she’s back, Ethan, you have her back now...It’s okay…”

This only made Ethan cry harder into Paul’s shoulder, holding on tighter. 

“S-sorry, he muttered, pulling back abruptly, “M’ so f-fucking pathetic…”

“Hey,” Emma whispered to him, making him crack open a tear-filled eye to look at her, “You’re not pathetic. What matters is you’re all okay, right?”

Reluctantly, the teen nodded. 

“And you’ve got both girls safe, right?” She continued, “And Kam said Lex was gonna be okay?” 

Ethan pulled back from Paul’s hug, looking at her more fully as he wiped at his eyes with shaky breaths, “R-Right…” 

She gently moved her hand to his shoulder, using her thumb to run comforting circles there, “It’s okay to feel this way, Ethan,” she reassured him, hoping that she was saying the right things, “You can let it all out...we won’t judge you.” 

“B-but” The teen stammered, his voice still shaky as more fat tears rolled down his cheeks, “B-but what-”

“No buts,” she whispered, moving closer to Paul and the crying teen, “You can't blame yourself for things that we're out of your control, Ethan.”

Paul looked at her with fondness in his sad smile as he recognized his own words coming out of her mouth.

“It's okay to feel like this, Ethan, ” she continued, “What could have happened doesn’t matter...what matters is what’s happening now...okay?” 

The teen nodded as a few more stifled cries left his lips, “O-Okay..” 

Paul patted his back, his eyes not leaving Emma as she stared at her with a soft reverence she wasn’t sure she’d seen him look at her with before. 

After a moment of silent cries, in which both adults just sat there, rubbing comforting circles and patterns up and down the teens back as a form of reassurance, Ethan inhaled and exhaled sharply. 

“Okay?” Paul questioned, looking the teen in the eye. 

“Okay, ” Ethan affirmed with a deep breath, ”T-thank you guys...I needed that.”

“It's no problem, man, ” Emma whispered, “I realize how fake this might sound, but if you ever need to talk to someone… You can always talk to us.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, as if the idea shocked him, “R-Really?” 

Paul nodded with a soft smile, “Of course.”

Ethan inhaled and exhaled sharply, looking at the two of them in thanks, “Thank you...so much…” 

Emma smiled at the boy before he reluctantly let go of them and moved to go find Becky and John. 

Paul took Emma’s hand gently in his own, “I love you so much,” he whispered, “You know that?” 

She hummed in response as she began to lead him towards Lex’s room, “I love you too...you big stupid nerd.”   
  


He squeezed her hand gently, stroking over her knuckles tenderly with his fingers. In some ways all the anxiety and pain melted away, leaving her grounded and focused. 

Who was this nerd who could do this to her? To help her see clearly even though the world around her was a hurricane?

With a smile, she realized he must truly love her.  
The realization was like a welcome summer breeze every time it hit her, making her feel like everything just might turn out okay in the end.

As they made their way through the maze that was PEIP’s infirmary, she couldn’t help but think that maybe she should take some of her own advice.

Her mission was clear.

Her mind was focused.

She knew what she had to do. 

She couldn’t always be in control...but she could control the way she moved forward in every single moment.

And she would do everything in her power to protect her family from here on out.

She would do whatever she could to keep them from harm here on out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Protect Tim Houston 2020  
> I'm so sorry, Tim sweetie, that an ugly ass bitch like me would say something like that...
> 
> Paul and Emma would make great parents. That's essentially the point of the second part.
> 
> This chapter was originally supposed to be longer, but it was already too long with all the ✨trauma✨ that I was adding so the next chapter might be a little longer.  
> Sorry this became a little bit of a filler because of it!!!
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos to let me know what you think!! Just know, I appreciate you regardless of whether or not you do!!!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my work!! It really means a lot!!!! 
> 
> Some random words I felt motivated to put here...
> 
> -I hope you all have an excellent day, and if not, try again tomorrow!!!
> 
> -If you need a boost of encouragement from a random stranger, just say so in the comments and I will be willing to provide what motivation I can from this end!!!
> 
> -Please remember to be kind to your fellow's and have an amazing day!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	42. While the Final Rattle Rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team goes over what they know, which isn't much but they're trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from the song ’I Grieve’ by Peter Gabriel

Xander paced around Lex’s hospital room with an intensity he wasn’t sure he’d ever achieve. Despite his bruised ribs and stitched-up minor wounds, Xander was deeper in thought than he’d probably been over the course of the entire mission.

“Xander, you’re gonna make dents in the floor with as much pacing as you’re doing,” Emma murmured tiredly from where she leaned against Paul’s shoulder.

Lex, who was cuddled up with Hannah on the hospital bed stifled a weak chuckle, making Xander smile slightly. Even the slightest bit of laughter was a breath of fresh air in comparison to the darkness that surrounded them. 

“John and Becky should be here soon,” he murmured to himself as he continued to think, walking at the same pace he had beforehand. For the past hour since they’d made their way out of Hidgen’s tunnels, Xander had been unable to stop thinking. Thinking about what they’d lost in the gunfight. Thinking about what they’d seen in Hidgen’s lab (or the ruins of it, anyway). Thinking about what Hidgens said. Thinking about why they were still alive. All of the possibilities swirled around in his brain like snowflakes, melting before he could consider them completely. 

Lex’s double had obviously been very capable at killing people. She could have killed him with as many times she’d thrown him around. Especially with the power she’d wrecked John and Xander’s apartment. So why were all five people inside the apartment still alive? And why had Tom been able to subdue Lex’s puppet so quickly...and easily?

The lab had been destroyed by the time they’d made it out of the tunnels, so there wasn’t much left of what Hidgens had been doing for him to take in while they were trying to get out...but it also led him to think about what had potentially gone missing during the shooting. 

John had mentioned how they’d been looking at maps of hotspots in command when the firefight had begun. Xander had been discussing the Foster girls’ (and Paul’s, as it turned out) heritage with Tom and Schaeffer. Paul and Emma had been on their lunch break. All the while, Lex, Ethan, and Hannah had been on their way to a lunch break, taking the route by the servers. How stupid they’d been not to consider that where everyone was at the time had nothing to do with it. There were so many things that had spiraled out of control so quickly that they had no time to actually consider the facts.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Everyone jumped at the sound and looked just in time to see Ethan holding open the door as John rolled Becky into the room in a wheelchair. 

Xander's breath hitched in his throat when he saw how wrecked she looked. Tear stains ran down her cheeks in rivers as the stains of smoke remained. John, from his place behind her, looked like he was a statue with how deeply-set his frown was. 

Ethan closed the door behind them and room his place cuddled up next to Hannah and Lex on the bed, “That's everyone I could find...and Mr. Houston is still in surgery-”

At the mention of Tom, Becky's breath hitched in a small sob, Xander assumed that John had told her about Tom’s current state and the incidents that had resulted in all of them ending up broken and bruised. She buried her face in her hands as John knelt beside her, offering some comfort in the wake of what they were facing.

Emma looked up, “Xander, now that we're all here, could you please start with what we know…?”

Xander nodded, understanding Emma’s sense of urgency.

Since Tim had been taken, he'd had a major sense of anguish instilled in his thought process. Xander couldn't bear the idea of a young boy, who was so precious to Tom, being used as a means to an end. Especially not one who was so close to them. Someone every adult in the room would probably die for. Hidgens had been entirely intentional when he'd taken Tim and anyone who didn't see that was a fool. 

The whole span of attacks had been up close and personal, but taking Tim was the last straw.

“Alright, ” Xander sighed, rubbing his temples where his head still ached, “As I'm sure we all know, our suspicions regarding Hidgens were confirmed in the regard that he was under the influence of a Being from the Black and White.”

“Not under the influence, ” Emma interrupted, “He _is_ one.”

Silence dropped over the room as everyone weighed the meaning of the words. Xander met John’s eyes, recognizing an intensity he’d seen in the last reset...just before he’d travelled, without a suit, into the Black and White to save Howard Goodman from the clutches of the Being of Chaos. 

The silence was deafening as they all stared at one another, noticing how everyone seemed to lean into one another more for comfort. 

Xander could see Lex grip Hannah and Ethan tighter as Ethan hugged them closer, his eyes filled with something Xander couldn’t quite read

Hannah nodded, muttering from her slightly muffled spot on Lex’s chest, “Being of Facades.”

Oh…

Oh no.

Well... that complicated things.

His heart thudded in his chest as everything suddenly took a new turn. If Hidgens was a Being of something from the Black and White, then they would be dealing with something of a much greater power level than what they had been anticipating. If Hidgens was under the influence of a Being, then they could potentially manage him as best they could...much like John had said Linda Monroe had been eliminated on the Black Friday reset. But because he was an actual _being_ from the Black and White...the chances of them surviving…

He pushed these thoughts away in order to keep the meeting going. He was a trained agent. 

_The_ _best-goddamned field agent in PEIP._

It was a title he wore with pride. He couldn't afford to let information like this compromise that. Regardless of how drastic the situation was, he had to remain as cool and as calm as he could be.

No matter how overwhelming.

No matter how difficult to process.

He had to stay calm.

“Okay...” Xander muttered as he processed this new information, “Apparently he is a Being...from the Black and White…”

Hannah nodded, “Took Tim. Has a plan.”

Xander sighed before nodding, “Yes, and now we just need to figure out what that plan is.”

Everyone seemed to fall into a silence that was deafening. In spite of the dire state of the situation, they were all very confused. Xander could sense that. He looked at John, who remiend by Becky’s side, offering what comfort he could. In his husband’s green eyes, Xander could see a depth of thought that he found extremely endearing. It was no secret that Xander thought his husband’s thought process to be sexy...but the situation was not appropriate to comment on it. 

Paul shifted uncomfortably, looking at everyone as if he was scanning the room. As if every square inch of the hospital room could offer answers, “Well...what do we know he got from us? I mean, the lab had a lot of paperwork and stuff that could have easily been stolen PEIP data.” 

“He had a great deal of maps,” Emma offered hesitantly, “I didn’t get a good look at them, but they were mostly of the Witchwood.”

_The Witchwood._

Xander looked at Hannah, whose eyes were searching his intently, making an uncomfortable shiver run up his spine. 

What were they trying to understand? 

What was the significance of the forest? 

When he and Emma had ventured into the Witchwood over the course of the past week, they’d only found minor anomalies. Nothing that was concerning, though. Anything they found was only confirming what they already knew; that the fabric of Hatchetfield’s reality was fucked up (which actually wasn’t as concerning as it sounded, considering how that was Hatchetfield’s norm). 

Still, why did the forest have any weight on what Hidgens might have been planning. 

It was true, the Witchwood was a major part of Hatchetfield’s history, and had once run over the entirety of the island itself, before land development grew out of hand and limited the forest as a whole to only about thirty percent of the island. Still, it was a large forest and made most of the town privy to it’s eerie silence as well as the ghost stories created throughout the town’s history. But what weight did ghost stories have on the actions of a Being from the Black and White. 

He looked at Lex, who looked like she was desperately trying to stay awake, “Do you remember anything that he had you do...while you were prisoner...I mean?” 

Ethan shifted protectively, holding lex tighter as the girl seemed to think. 

“Well...I mean…” Lex rasped, looking very done with the world at the moment, “I was in a glass cocoon thing so...no.” 

“He mentioned harnessing your ability though!” Emma exclaimed, her head shooting up from Paul’s shoulder suddenly, “To retrieve that knife...right? That’s gotta count for something, right?” 

Hannah sat up suddenly, her dark eyes wide, “Knife?”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded, “He had a knife…” Emma hesitated for a moment, biting down on her lower lip, “I mean, I say knife...but it was more like an ornate dagger, though…” 

Hannah sat up straighter, leaning in closer, making Xander realize the urgency in her gaze, The meaning behind everything that was exciting the girl in that moment escaped him as Hannah seemed to contemplate what Emma was saying, treating it with an urgency nobody else could entirely understand. He observed with intrigue. 

Hannah fascinated him. 

In addition to being extremely fond of the girl, he knew she was one of the most powerful human beings in the world. If anything, she _was_ the most powerful human in the world. She was the key to everything they had been given in the span of the past few months. She probably had the answers, but was unable to translate them. 

In some ways, a great part of him was furious that the world would put this pressure on a little girl. Judging by the way she would deliver prophecies nobody would understand, he knew this gift could not have been an easy one for _anyone_ to bear. Yet, she bore it’s weight with a grace he didn’t think anyone capable of. 

She didn’t deserve this. 

She didn’t deserve to be made a pawn in the game these Beings liked to play. 

None of these people did. 

Hannah’s next words came out in an eerily shallow whisper, which Xander could barely hear, “Black?” 

Emma seemed taken aback. She looked from Paul to Lex, and then back at Hannah, her brown eyes filled with an almost fearful sort of confusion, “Yes...yes it was Black.” 

Hannah closed her eyes, her breathing rate picking up speed as she shook her head around. Ethan leaned forward, Hannah?” 

“Not good, tearing…” Hannah murmured, lifting her hands to her ears as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears began to drip from between her sealed eyes, “Restoration...opening the door...doesn’t know…” 

Xander moved closer to the girl, leaning down in front of her, “Hannah?” 

Hannah shook her head at the sound of her name, mumbling under her breath, as her respiration grew more hurried and choked, “No...not good...ripping…” 

“Hannah,” he whispered again, keeping his voice gentle as he looked at the girl, offering a small smile, “Hannah, can you breathe with me?” 

Hannah cracked open an eye for a second, confusion in her gaze, “Huh?” 

“Can you breathe with me?” he repeated gently, smiling at her with what reassurance he could muster, “In and out...if you want to...”

Reluctantly, Hannah nodded.

“Okay,” he smiled, kneeling in front of her, “Just breathe with me...in and out…”

Hannah nodded again, her choking breaths slowing down as she slowly matched the pace of Xander’s breathing with her own. Xander couldn’t believe it worked. 

He knew he wasn’t the most emotionally intelligent person around, but Hannah was in need of calm. Especially when things were getting as dire as they were. 

After a while, Hannah’s tears subsided, and her dark eyes opened, her breathing normal. Lex glanced at Xander and mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ as Hannah steadied herself against the railing of the hospital bed. 

Hannah inhaled sharply, her dark eyes scanning the room intently before they fell on Paul.

“Blood,” she murmured, “Same root.”

Lex quirked an eyebrow, wrapping an arm around her sister, “Root of what Hannah?” 

“Blood has the same root, Lexi, “ Hannah murmured, looking up at her sister, “Forest.” 

Xander glanced over the group of people in the room as confusion flickered in their eyes. In Paul’s light blue ones, he could see a form of calculation, as if he were trying to understand a math equation that had been placed in front of him. Xander considered the weight of Hannah’s words. 

_Root. Blood. Forest._

_Blood has the same root._

Blood of the same root. 

He glanced from the Foster girls to Paul. 

Oh. 

“Hannah,” he began, “Do you mean, you, Paul and Lex all have the same root...family wise?” 

Hannah nodded before muttering sagely, “The witch.” 

Everyone fell silent, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of the words. The idea that a witch from Hatchetfield lore was real, and related to three out of the eight people in the room, was something that seemed so...absurd But now that they’d had reason to believe in it...it sort of made sense. 

But what did it have to do with the current situation? 

Hannah slipped off of the hospital bed and began to pace the room gracefully, almost mimicking Xander’s movements from before in the way she looked about the room. Her steps were slow and controlled, making it seem as though she were an ethereal being from another world. In some ways, Xander felt like he should have been afraid. 

“Needed maps, “ Hannah murmured, her voice sounding reflective and smooth in the way she enunciated certain words, “Used Lex’s power to get the knife...shooting to get the maps…” 

“Maps to what?” John asked, his eyes seemingly understanding where this was going. 

“Anomalies,” Hannah murmured, looking over at Emma and Xander, “Needed to find the tree.” 

“In the Witchwood, you mean?” John nodded. 

Hannah smiled and nodded, “Needed to find the tree.” 

“What tree, Hannah?” Lex asked, her eyes filled with confusion. 

Hannah looked to Xander, “The root.” 

Suddenly Xander understood. 

It couldn’t be that simple...but was it? 

Was it? 

Xander inhaled and exhaled sharply, looking at Hannah, “Do you mean the tree Willabella Muckwab was hanged from?” 

Hannah smiled and nodded. 

A moment of silence enveloped the room once more as everyone looked at one another. 

Why would Hidgens need the tree from which Willabella Muckwab was executed? Why would this bear any significance to his actions? The old hanging tree was hardly a place of historical significance. To be honest, all accounts of executions held in Hatchetfield designated any tree as fair game for criminals and prisoners to take their last breath. Nobody even knew which tree specifically the infamous Hatchetfield Muck-Witch was executed from...it could have been any tree in the middle of the Witchwoods that still existed...or had been cut down when the town was developed into the not-so-tiny-town it was now. 

But if Hidgens was trying to find it…

Why was he trying to find it anyway?

It was true that Willabella had sworn her lifelong allegiance to the Lords in Black, that were presumably the same thing as the Beings of the Black and White. But what significance did that have to modern times? Especially to a being itself? 

“Why is he looking for the tree?”John asked, seemingly reading Xander’s mind from the other side of the room, “Why does he need it?” 

Hannah’s face fell. She looked up at Xander, a grave expression on her face, “First tear.” 

Oh. 

That made sense. 

“What…” Ethan started, stammering over his words, “What does that mean?” 

Xander inhaled sharply for the millionth time throughout this whole conversation before turning to the teen, “She means that with Willabella’s execution in 1824, came the first tear in the dimensional fabric.” 

John nodded, “If Willabella was the first disciple to the Lords in Black in Hatchetfield, and she swore her allegiance to them, it would make sense that her death would make the first rip in what makes this reality...well, this reality.” 

Emma looked at Paul, her eyes wide, “So...he’s going to the tree so he can do...what?” 

“Cut the fabric,” Hannah muttered sagely, “Needed the knife to do it.”

Ethan snorted, “Yeah...I’m still a little lost in the significance of the knife...do we have an explanation for that?” 

Hannah stifled a small chuckle before her expression turned grave once more, “Magic knife...can cut through the fabric...into the Black and Whi-”

“ _Oh my God!”_

Everyone turned in shock to Emma, whose eyes had gone insanely wide. She jumped to her feet, running a hand through her hair and muttering to herself, “That’s what he meant.”

“What?” Paul looked at her, his eyes slightly wide from shock in reaction to her outburst.

“I mean…” Emma threw her hands up in the air, “We’re...oh _fuck...oh fuck…”_

“Emma...if you need a moment,” John started before he was cut off by a very excited and almost...exasperated Emma.

“He’s not at his full strength yet,” Emma exclaimed, “He’s not in his proper form yet...so we still have a chance!!” 

“Emma, slow down,” Xander said, lifting a hand to calm the woman down, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean he needs the knife to release what was left of his true self in the Black and White, and the tree, because it's the place where the first tear happened, is the exact place to do it!” she all but shouted, “He said so himself...which means we have time…” 

“Have time for what?” John asked, leaning in as if intrigued. 

“Time to save Tim and potentially kill this son of a bitch, that’s what I mean,” Emma exclaimed with a curt nod.

For a moment, everyone seemed to pause, as if the suggestion was absurd. It was John who broke the silence. 

“Kill him?” 

“Yes,” Emma nodded, “I know it sounds fuckin’ crazy...but we mihght still have a chance while he’s still…” she trailed off as if she couldn’t find the right words to describe Hidgens’ state. Calling him weak wouldn’t cut it, and any other attempts at a description would have probably fallen short. Instead, everyone seemed to nod in agreement. 

Paul looked up at her, “Are you serious?” 

She nodded self-assuredly, “He’s got Tim...and God only knows what’s gonna happen if he tears open this reality again...we can’t let that happen.” 

After a while, John spoke up, “I agree…” he cleared his throat, “We just need to know where this tree is…” 

Everyone fell silent, as if they knew they’d hit a roadblock there. 

Hannah looked at Paul, an odd sort of smile on her face. 

“He knows,” she murmured, making everyone in the room go rigid. 

Paul looked shocked, “M-Me?” 

Hannah nodded, “You’ve seen it before.” 

Paul shook his head, “The only times I’ve been in the Witchwoods, I’ve never been able to tell one tree apart from the next.” 

“You’ve seen it,” Hannah insisted, moving closer to him before turning to John, “Could you get a map?” 

John seemed taken aback for a moment, before nodding and leaving the room hastily, possibly in search of the map. Hannah looked at Paul, “Nightmares. You’ve seen it.” 

Paul froze for a moment, his skin growing noticeably paler as he looked at the little girl, “You mean…” 

“Nightmare time…” Hannah whispered, “Showed you.” 

Emma moved next to Paul, “What does she mean…” 

“That nightmare, Em,” Paul whispered, his voice shaky and uncertain, “The night before the shooting…”

Emma froze, her eyes widening in understanding, “Some of it was in the Witchwoods?” 

Paul nodded slightly before turning to Hannah, “A clearing...right?” 

Hannah nodded with a small smile, “Willow...you didn’t notice it because of the blood…” 

Paul seemed to shudder at the memory. 

Ethan coughed loudly, “Could someone please explain to me what the fuck is going on?” 

“I-” Paul began, looking down with a sigh as if he didn’t know where to start, “I had a nightmare the night before the shooting...and part of it took place in the Witchwoods.” 

After another extremely long moment of silence, as everyone seemingly reflected on this, John came back with a folded-up map in hand, “This is a copy of the map we were analyzing the day the shooting happened.” He handed it to Hannah, who went to the Hospital bed and spread the large piece of paper outon it, beckoning Paul to stand and join her. 

Xander peered over Hannah’s shoulders, and could see all of the places he and Emma had marked anomalies over the expanse of the infamous forest. One of these was supposedly indicative of the clearing where Willabella Muckwab was hanged...but which one? 

Hannah looked up at Paul, who stood awkwardly over the map, looking very much like a wallflower at a middle school dance...which he probably was at some point. 

“You can hear things,” Hannah whispered to him, her eyes wide and insistent as she looked up at her sorta-cousin, “Listen for Tim.”

Everyone seemed to flinch at the mention of the name. 

Paul looked especially disturbed, “Wh-what?” 

“You found Lex,” Hannah whispered excitedly, looking up at her sister, “Could hear her...led you to her.”

She quickly walked over to the clipboard that was mounted on the wall of the room and withdrew an ink pen, “Listen for Tim...envision it...and mark it…” 

She offered the pen to him, to which he shook his head, “I-I don’t know what I was-”

“You heard her,” Hannah said sternly, “You found her. Listen for Tim...you can find him too...”

Paul seemed to waver slightly, “You’re sure?” 

She nodded, “Positive.” 

Paul tapped his fists together quickly, murmuring the word ‘okay’ under his breath repeatedly. His blue eyes were wide as they scanned the room, almost as if he was looking for an escape. Hannah moved to another part of the room where another pen had been left unattended. She held it up, “Together...two better than one.” 

Paul looked slightly incredulous, running a hand furiously through his hair before sighing and looking to Emma with a look of fear in his eyes. Almost like she was the only thing keeping him grounded in this reality. She placed a hand on his shoulder gently, rubbing circles into his shirt with her thumb. In some ways, Xander could see this, their quiet intimacy, the mere presence of one another as a calming factor, as a testament to the bond Hannah had told her about back before they’d even known John, Ethan and Paul had ever existed. 

The fact that they’d managed to bring John, Ethan, and Paul back into existence was a feat that still bewildered Xander in every aspect of his life. The fact that one day, he’d not even known he was married, and the next his husband was back in his arms, was mind-boggling. He was very lucky that John had been brought home safely, and that he’d not been ripped away from him as Emma had been from Paul when he’d been found infected. In some ways, Xander understood his reluctance to be involved in the Black and White’s power. 

After being trapped in the Black and White for a considerable amount of time, and then being under the influence of a Being’s power, and being a target of one of the Beings for several lifetimes, it was understandable that Paul didn’t want any further involvement. Still, in his eyes, Xander could see an understanding of their circumstances. An understanding that this fight -this _war_ \- was such an integral part of their lives, that they couldn’t simply walk away. 

He knew because it was a look that Xander had seen in himself several times. A look where he wished he and John could just ignore the weight of the world and live their lives together. But if they ignored it, they knew that they would follow the world into a life of hell. 

John and Xander had understood that from the moment they’d gotten married. 

And now, as Xander watched the way Paul and Emma interacted, he could see that they did too. 

After a moment of silence, Paul’s hand went up to join Emma's, squeezing her hand softly, before he looked back at her and whispered, “For Tim.” 

Emma offered him a small smile before stepping back, watching intently as Paul took the pen from Hannah’s outstretched hand. 

Hannah smiled, “Envision the clearing, and listen...focus on Tim’s voice...what he sounds like.” 

Paul looked unsure, “How will I…” 

“Don’t think,” Hannah interrupted, “Just listen.” 

Paul murmured another ‘okay’ under his breath as he held out the pen, clicking it open. The room went deathly silent as they watched the two stand there, ink pens outstretched. Both appeared to be listening for something neither of them could hear. After a while, Paul’s muscles seemed to relax, fascinating Xander. His eyes fell shut and for a moment, it looked as if he was sleep-walking. Hannah mimicked him as her eyes fell shut, and the silence wrapped around them like a blanket. 

Everyone looked at the two. The thirty-year-old man and the eleven-year-old girl, who were standing there, limp as ragdolls, waiting for something. Anything. 

No one dared say anything as the silence and stillness became infectious. Almost as if there was an unspoken fear that if anyone said anything or moved, they would disturb the sudden use of abilities. 

After a while, everyone just looked between one another. Nothing had happened, and if the clock on the wall read correctly, they’d been like this for three minutes. The situation was absurd, Xander knew, but if it was necessary for them to develop a plan and find Tim and Hidgens, then Xander was willing to look as ridiculous as possible. Besides, the calm was a nice change from the anxiety and apprehension that had occupied the room up until that point. 

Suddenly, Paul’s hand fell, coming down gently as his eyes and nose scrunched up, like he was smelling a foul scent. Everyone held their breath as the pen came down and made a single mark on the paper. Moments later, Hannah’s pen did the same. 

Paul opened his eyes and stumbled back, like he’d just been caught in an extremely strong wind current, careening into Emma as he went with a hasty ’what the hell’ mumbled under his breath. Hannah, on the other hand, opened her eyes slowly and gracefully, before picking the map up and holding it up for Xander to see. 

In the back of his mind, he could hear Paul and Emma worriedly talking about Tim.

”Could you hear him?” she whispered, her voice stagnant as if she was trying to keep the fear at bay.

”He’s alive, ” Paul responded gravely, prompting Emma to exhale a sigh of relief, ”Hes terrified, but alive...”

”Thank God, ” Emma whispered, her voice shaky as she reached for Paul’s arm like it was a reflex.

Xander turned his attention back down to the map, and smiled, thinking only one triumphant thought as he took in the sight before him.

_Found you, Hidgens. You son of a bitch._

On the small map, the black ink markings perfectly overlapped one another, making one, very clear dot, at the center of the woods. Right around an outskirt of a residential neighborhood. 

He looked to Hannah, who nodded in confirmation, ”Found it.”

Xander smiled at the wise young girl in thanks, “We have our location...let's get a team together as fast as we can and get a strategy down.”

He turned to John, “General,” he said with a confident smile, “I believe that’s where you come in.” 

As John sighed and stepped into what Xander called his ‘general stance’, Xander could only think about how close they were. If they played their cards right...they just might win this war. 

They just might have a chance. 

The thought was impractical, he knew, but it was better than being fatalistic and accepting defeat preemptively. 

Maybe Xander could grant himself the luxury of hoping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo...four chapters left guys...we’re really in the home stretch (I planned this fix to be two-parter series though...so...*ominous laughter*)
> 
> Xander's a boss who's trying to figure this out...also he loves his General husband.  
> He also low-key ships Paulkins, could you tell?  
> Hannah is my badass child and I love her.  
> Ethan is ✨confused✨ (and I wouldn't have him any other way)
> 
> So, this one is a little bit like the calm before the storm length-wise, because the next few are going to be pretty long.
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos if you would like!!! If not, I still appreciate you!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Please be kind to yourselves and others, and WEAR A MASK CORRECTLY WHEN OUT IN PUBLIC (I almost yelled at someone at Walgreens because they were wearing it like a chin strap. Seriously, it's very inconsiderate if you don't wear a mask correctly and only prolonging the issue, so please wear a mask to keep others and yourself safe😊)
> 
> Thank you again!!!!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	43. And I’m Looking Through the Eyes of Someone Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma updates Tom on what happened.  
> June has had enough.  
> Emma and Paul are uncertain for what lies ahead as they prepare for their mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title for this comes from the song ’Tomorrow’ by SR-71

Reset No. 6

Date: August 27th, 2018

Being of Facades

Tom felt dizzy and nauseous in the moments after he returned to consciousness. 

There was a dull throb in his head as the lights that surrounded him seemed blinding, only making the pain in his head grow. He tried to lift a hand to his brow to block it all out as a moan of pain escaped his lips, but he found very quickly that he couldn’t move his arms. 

Where was he? 

What had…

Suddenly it all came streaming back to him in painfully bright bursts of memory in his brain.

_The lab._

_Xander and John’s destroyed apartment._

_The carnage._

_Lex’s double._

_Hidgens._

_Finding Paul, Emma, and the real Lex as he was about to kill them_. 

He’d shot at Hidgens...hadn’t he?

But then…

 _Oh, right_. 

He’d been thrown into a pile of stake-like wood. 

As if to punctuate the remembrance, a sharp stab of agony ran through his lower abdomen, making him want to turn over on his side and pull his knees to his chest...something he found himself annoyingly incapable of doing. Forcing his eyes open, he glanced down at his right wrist to find a thick band of something wrapped around it, keeping him pinned to the bed, so as not to endanger himself. He cursed lightly under his breath and fell back against the pillows, feeling like he was very much in pain, and could use a good whiskey or morphine...whichever came first. He tried to make himself relax. Soon enough a nurse would come by and help him out. Everything would be okay. Maybe it would be Becky...he liked hanging out with her. God, he loved Becky...

He shook his head. 

_What were the pain meds doing to him?_

If he was thinking about how pretty Becky was, how smart and badass she was, then he must have been on some pretty strong stuff...but why wasn't the actual _pain_ going away?

He swallowed, trying to add moisture to his dry and sore throat, preparing to call out to anyone in the near vicinity, before the curtain was pulled open. 

Through his blurred vision, he could make out a short brown and green blob standing in front of him, sitting down in the chair beside his bed.

“Hey, Tom, ” it spoke, and he recognized the tired, almost worried voice instantly.

“E-Em…” he choked, releasing a bout of raspy coughs, “Emma…”

As his vision cleared, he was able to see his sister-in-law, sitting beside him, a grave expression on her face. She wore a deep-set frown as she seemed to take in his very being, almost like she had something she wanted to tell him, but was unsure if she should. 

“H-How…” she began, hesitancy in her tone, “How are you feeling?” 

“Like shit…” he rasped, falling back against the pillows with a humorless laugh, “What happened?” 

“Well...um…” Emma bit down on her lower lip, “A whole lot happened, which is what I’m here to talk to you about…” 

“Can’t it wait?” Tom half-whined, “I wanna see Tim…” 

Emma froze, going noticeably rigid. 

“Where is he,” Tom began, trying to ignore this sudden shift in her body language, “Can I see him?” 

“Tom…” Emma murmured, “You need to know this...and I need you to sit back and shut up because it’s not great.” 

The tone of her voice instantly made Tom freeze. He recognized that tone. It was the tone someone took when they would deliver bad news. Like when they’d gotten confirmation from EMTs that Jane was dead at the scene of the wreck. Like when he’d heard from his parents that his Aunt Cynthia had died. Like when he would get false sympathies from other coworkers about the loss of his wife. 

Emma’s voice told him that something was very, very wrong. 

He tried to sit up, only to be forced down by the restraints on his bed, “Why-Why am I tied down?” he tried to keep his voice as even and as calm as he could, “What’s happened?” 

Emma inhaled and exhaled sharply, fidgeting ceaselessly with her hands from their place in her lap, “Tom...I don’t know how to tell you this-”

“Then just say it!” He almost snapped, his heart pounding in his chest, “What’s happened?!”

Emma looked at him, and in her dark brown eyes that bore some of the same expressions as Jane’s had, he could see the root of the issue. If he was right, and he prayed to God with all his might that he wasn’t, this had something to do with his son. 

Something had happened to Tim. 

“Emma…” he began, his voice irritatingly shaky as he tried to remain calm and not spiral out of control, delivering each word with punctuality that made it seem like they remained on their own, “ _Where is Tim?_ ” 

Emma stood up and inhaled sharply again before delivering the damning words, “Hidgens took him.” 

_No._

He swallowed hard as anger and fear seeped into his veins, “Wh-what?” 

“Tom you need to stay-”

“What the _fuck_ happened?” He snapped in a demanding and terrified tone, looking up at his sister-in-law, whose worried eyes didn’t waver. He struggled against the restraints trying to sit up and get out of where he was trapped. 

“While you came and saved us from Hidgens, and we were getting you out of the wood you’d been thrown into,” Emma explained, keeping her voice and tone even as she read his every reaction, “Hidgens started a small fire in your apartment, locking the doors.”

A fire? 

No. No. No.

_Becky had been in the apartment with Tim._

She couldn’t be- 

“We managed to get Becky out, but found no sign of Tim,” Emma continued, negating the fears he had. Tom allowed himself only a second of relief for Becky's safety, allowing his attention and worry to focus entirely on Tim, “According to Becky, Hidgens had grabbed him and just disappeared.” 

Tom struggled against the restraints, fury melding into his heart, “Emma, let me out…”

“But we know where he is, ” Emma continued, her voice almost military-sounding in the way she cut him off, “And he's still alive...we have a plan for the mission and we _will_ get him back.”

“Well, then n let me out of here,” Tom demanded, struggling more frantically against the cuffs, “I have to get him back.” 

“No, Tom,” Emma said calmly, her face resolute. 

Anger flared in his veins. 

Who the fuck did she think she was, keeping him from going to rescue his son? 

“Emma,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “Let. Me. Go.” 

She shook her head again, “I can’t do that Tom.” 

His breathing grew rapid as anger burned in his head and heart, he struggled against the cuffs with a grunt of anger, making Emma flinch slightly, “Emma, you don’t understand, let me go, _right now…”_

“Tom, listen-”

“No!” he shouted, “I can’t let anything happen to him! You don’t understand! I _swear to God, Emma if anything-”_

“TOM!” Emma exclaimed in a voice that made him pause. 

It was a voice that almost perfectly imitated Jane’s when she tried to keep him from spiraling. A voice that told him he was being stupid and needed to shut the fuck up. As he looked at Emma, with a resolute form of determination in her eyes, he could see his wife. His wife could get him to shut up and listen at any moment. 

“ _You_ are not going anywhere,” she told him, keeping her voice calm. 

He snorted and glared at her, “And why the fuck not?” 

She sighed and gestured to the bandages that covered his abdomen, “Because you have a nine-inch gash in your abdomen and just got out of emergency surgery for it. You can barely move properly, and would likely be killed within the first five minutes of the mission. The only reason I am even telling you about this is that he’s your son and you have a right to know.” 

He bit back any scathing, albeit childish, retorts that were growing on his tongue. 

“Which is why,” Emma continued, her gaze softening, “I am going.”

He froze and studied her face. Her face didn’t betray any wavering doubt. As her brown eyes stared into him, he could see that she was completely serious. This five-foot-three, hurricane of a woman was being completely serious. 

“You?” he tried to keep his incredulity out of his voice. 

She nodded at him curtly, “Me. As well as Xander, John, and two other operatives.” 

He took in the new information. 

She was seriously barring him from going on this mission? 

His injuries be damned, there was nothing that would stop him from going to save his son. 

“Bullshit,” he spat, before struggling against his restraints once more, “I’m coming with you.” 

“No, you are not.” Emma snapped at him, making him shrink back down into the mattress. 

Desperation clawed at his heart, “Emma...please…” 

“No, Tom, “ she cut him off, “You’re not coming.” 

“Why not?” he demanded, growing angry again, “ _Why can’t I save my son!?_ ”

“ _Because I want Tim to have a father when he comes home, that’s why!_ ” Emma yelled suddenly, her eyebrows furrowed in an impatience and anger that had been absent from her face in the moments before. 

Tom sank back again, the weight of Emma’s words sinking into his mind. Pride made him want to tell her he could do it. He wanted to prove to her that he was able to do what he needed to save his son. But the look on her face…

In Emma’s eyes, he could see an earnest determination behind her obvious annoyance with him.

“He already lost his mother, ” Emma whispered, her voice shaky, “He doesn't need to lose his father too...and with that injury, you’d last less than two minutes…”

Tom knew she was right. She knew she was too. In some ways, she was similar to Jane when she knew she was right, only not as condescending as Jane had once been. Rather, in his sister-in-law’s eyes, he saw genuine concern and determination.

“What-” he began, unsure of how to respond, “What about you…?”

She sighed, “I'm going specifically to get Tim. I'll be fine...probably…”

He noticed the hesitation in her voice as she looked down at the floor. She was scared, he could tell. He could see it in her gaze as she fidgeted with her fingers.

He inhaled and exhaled shakily, "What does Paul think about all this?”

Emma bit down on her lip, her face falling, an action that made Tom’s heart only ache more. Behind the blue curtain, Tom noted a tall shadow shift uncomfortably. One that he’d not noticed before. He suddenly knew that Paul was there, listening in, hearing everything. 

He couldn’t have felt good about this. About the choice that Emma had made. There was no way that the nervous wreck of a man that Emma had bonded to didn’t understand the risks and consequences of Emma throwing herself out in the field to save the life of his son. 

In some ways, he'd been in Emma’s shoes several times before. Having to look at Jane and tell her that there was another dangerous mission he could potentially not come back from was one of the most difficult parts of his first job with PEIP. Of course, none of the jobs he'd had involved a literal Being from the Black and White, and never before had they been so out of their league with such small amounts of knowledge regarding their enemy. As he looked into the face of the woman who was taking it upon herself to save his son, he could only feel a small amount of sickening dread settle into his bones. 

If she was experiencing half of the ill feelings that he had every time he said goodbye to Jane in a dire situation such as this, she and Paul were potentially headed towards never seeing one another again.

“I’ll…” she began, hesitation in her tone, “I’ll be careful...but I'm not coming back until Tim is safe at home.”

The assurance with which she said these words unsettled Tom. 

“Please, Emma, ” he began, his voice shaky, “Please don't go out and get yourself killed….”

Emma sighed again and it down hard on her lip as she closed her eyes, “I will do... _whatever it takes_ to make sure Tim is safe with you again.”

“Jesus, Emma, ” Tom tried to sit up again, “Tim needs an Aunt too...and Paul, he needs you too! You can't just-”

“I know, ” Emma sighed with a bitter laugh, forcing a small sardonic smile, “It's not like I'm _planning_ on getting myself killed.”

The words were filled with humor…but Emma’s face was not.

Tom sighed, wincing as the action made his injury hurt more. He turned to his sister-in-law and saw that she was completely determined. If he couldn't do anything, she would. Somehow, he knew she had no intention of letting him down and would do all she could to save his son. 

He tried to find the motivation to stop her and found none. It was a tough call to make, but he knew that Tim’s life came above anyone else. 

Tim always came first. 

And for Emma to put his life above her own...well, it proved what Tom should have accepted about Emma long before he'd actually allowed her into their lives; that she valued and loved Tim, and was willing to work hard to be the best aunt she could possibly be to him. He only wished it didn't take these circumstances for him to finally get it through his thick skull.

After a while he looked up at her, “You're certain about this?”

She nodded, her voice shaking only slightly, “Definitely.”

He inhaled and exhaled sharply as he looked at her. The determination in her eyes despite the fear was clear. He could tell she had a mission and end in her mind, and nothing would stop her from accomplishing it. He knew, with a terrifying strike at the center of his soul, that she would willingly _die_ to return his son to him. 

He held out his hand as much as he could with the restraints. Gently, family, and reluctantly, she took it. Her palms were sweaty and clammy as she held his hand, avoiding eye-contact with him. There was a solemn sort of understanding between the two of them, the knowledge that this could lead her to her death seeping through their terrified touch, but the determination to get Tim back was much stronger. 

Tom looked up at her, keeping his voice as strong as he could, for Jane, for their son, for Becky, for Emma, and even for Paul. Despite the fear and anguish associated with the situation, he had to trust Emma completely. He had to trust that she would bring his son back to him. 

“Bring him home.”

—

June Schaeffer was many things.

Ambitious was one of them.

She knew she was being kept out of some very important information circles the minute that two of her best operatives were ordered for a ‘reconnaissance mission’ in the middle of the Witchwoods and she was given instructions to begin code Blue evacuation procedures for the citizens of Hatchetfield, she knew something was amiss.

But in the oddness of it all, she could see opportunity. 

Naturally, she knew it had something to do with the apocalyptic forces that threatened this world. Anyone could see that with as cryptic as John and Xander had been. The fact that they’d planned for such a small exclusion indicated that they were expecting a high mortality rate on their mission and were doing their best to avoid high casualty rates. Still, they were willing to throw the head of their Science department, their leader, and one of their top assets on this particular case into the thick of it. Not only that, Hoston was in surgery, last she’d heard.

There was no way this wasn't something important. When she’d been told to start loading civilians into the tunnels of the PEIP base, she’d known there was something that required a little bit more precaution. If all went in her favor, soon she'd be in line for a promotion that should have been hers long ago.

It wasn't fair, she thought, that John had just been _given_ his position back once he’d been drawn out of the Black and White. She'd technically _existed_ longer, earned more respect, worked harder, and once John came back she was forgotten. She'd tried to bite her tongue and follow what orders she’d been given in order to make the most of what she’d been given, expecting the bitterness to go away on it's own. 

It didn't. 

Now, she was given a new set of orders and was being kept in the dark about something She’d been actively involved in. 

Fucking _civilians_ knew more about what was happening than she did. 

That had been the final straw. 

As she began to type out the mandate that would go to every phone belonging to the citizens of Hatchetfield, directing them where to go and how to gain access to the place that would likely give them salvation, she began to formulate a plan. A plan that would allow her to earn the respect she was deserving of. The respect she’d been craving since basic training. The ranking and the respect she’d been denied.

She’d worked her whole life to be in PEIP. She’d worked hard to earn the rank of colonel. And she wouldn't stop there. 

Nobody would deny June Schaeffer what was rightfully hers.

And the presence of those who dared call themselves her friends wouldn't change that.

She knew it was wrong, to wish them ill. To wish that death would meet them on their mission. But the idea filled her with something deliciously dark. Something that made her grin at the prosperity that their misfortune would bring her.

Very few knew this side of her. 

Behind the mask of strict military ideals and professionalism, she knew she was truly an opportunist. 

She'd been smart when she’d made the acquaintance of Tom, Xander, and John. She’d seen it as a chance for association to help her along the way. Aside from her work, the fact that she hung out with a group of men who at the very least _appeared_ like they worked as she did. Of course, they'd all risen in ranks, together, but she fell into the background as their exploits grew more and more reckless. 

She’d realized that she’d have to be quietly ambitious if she wanted to get ahead. 

No. No one would push June Schaeffer to the side ever again. 

She’d make her mark on the world. 

Even if that meant ensuring that her General, his husband, and a couple of civilians were buried to do it. 

So, she’d bide her time. 

Waiting in the dark. 

Waiting for just the right moment. 

She'd have her moment. 

Soon enough. 

\---

The silence of the gear room was deafening as Emma prepared for the mission. Piling on what equipment she’d been instructed to bring with a slow kind of dread that settled over her bones, making her hands shake as she fiddled with the straps and buckles, securing what she could to ensure the least bit of injury she could. 

She knew she would likely get injured, or killed, but she knew that this tactical gear was her best option to avoid it. What good it would do against the powers of a Being from a dimension outside of time and space, she didn’t know. But she hoped it would at the very least protect her long enough to get to Tim and get him out of there. 

It was just simple, black tactical gear, but as she put on each layer of dark equipment, she felt more and more fear creep into her heart. 

This could very well be the last day of her life.

Still, she was willing to do whatever she needed to in order to bring Tim back. She would do anything to save her beloved nephew's life. Even if it meant sacrificing her own. 

The mission was simple. They’d access the woods via the Hatchetfield cemetery, making a beeline for the location Hannah and Paul had provided them with. Colonel Schaeffer would be overseeing the evacuation of Hatchetfield citizens into the tunnels should the plan to take Hidgens out (which was the aim of John, Xander, and the other two operatives) go wrong. The mission itself would be overseen by Paul, as the idea for this mission, in particular, remained mostly in keeping everything close to their chests. 

In the hours before, Xander and John had drilled Paul through what successful protocols and advisement strategies he could use to ensure success. Paul, as soon as she’d volunteered to be the one to retrieve Tim, had immediately shifted into a mode of operation she’d never seen before. He didn’t try and stop her, and if he had any reservations about her going he didn’t reveal them. Rather, he understood that it was her own choice and made himself useful where he could.

He had to know what the chances were, though. They weren’t something people could just ignore. She knew that if she made the wrong move while out in the field, she would likely die, and jeopardize the lives of her nephew and the other people on the mission. 

Still, Paul didn’t plead with her to stay. Instead, he’d merely looked at her, a frightened but melancholy understanding in his eyes. Like he knew why she wanted so desperately to go. 

It was true, finding Tim was her top priority. She was willing to risk it all to bring him back. Even if it meant laying down all she had to offer, which at the moment was only herself. 

Her life meant nothing to her. Tim’s however, meant the world. 

She wouldn’t let the world take another member of her family from her. 

She refused to let it do such a thing. 

Tim was all that mattered at the moment.

He was all she had left of Jane. He was all anybody had left of Jane, really. In those dark brown eyes, people could see a sea's worth of intelligence and mischief. Mischief that she’d only thought Jane capable of. In his smile and laughter, she could see traces of the child she had known Jane as. Of the childhood they’d once shared. 

Tim was the spitting image of her sister when she thought about it. Same dark twinkling eyes. The same laugh that wrinkled their noses as the smiles crossed their faces. Same sense of humor. Same intellectual tendencies. Same smile. 

Everything but the hair and possibly temperament was so quintessentially Jane. 

Only, it wasn’t Jane. 

It was her son. 

It was a little ball of laughter and life that carried Jane’s spirit with him every single day. A person who brought so much joy into Emma’s life and loved her despite her inability to be worthy of it. 

She didn’t deserve his love, yet he gave it to her every time they saw one another. 

Just another person in her life whose affection she was undeserving of. 

She sat down on the bench, lacing up the combat boots she’d been loaned, trying not to think about the potential dangers associated with the mission ahead. Rather, she focused on her own role. Saving Tim was her top priority. She’d worry about the getting back alive part when it came to it. 

When she’d asked Xander and John if she could be the one to grab Tim, she’d known she didn’t trust anyone else to be the one to do it. She trusted Xander and John, yes, but she felt better if she would be the one to do it. Tim was her nephew, after all, and she didn’t want anybody else to potentially screw it all up. Of course, there was great potential for her to screw it all up. 

They were all way out of their league with this mission, she knew. 

With the evacuation procedures that they’d given Schaeffer (a role John had noted that she wasn’t too keen on accepting) going into effect within the next few hours, she could only hope that the citizens of Hatchetfield didn’t act the way they normally did in a crisis and actually followed the advice to escape into the tunnels. She hoped that maybe some Hatchetfield people would survive this apocalypse...for once. 

If they succeeded in killing Hidgens (which, any genius knew the chances of doing that were slim) maybe Hatchetfield would actually survive. 

Of course, she needed to consider the fact that if she _did_ die out there, the world would reset, and they’d be back where they started...which was supposedly Jane’s death. 

How many times had Jane taken her last breath? 

Why would Jane’s death be the place that this all started over again? 

Why did Jane have to die for the world to continue in it’s fucked up way? 

The questions may have seemed to be those that were not answerable by any person she knew, rather, they seemed to be the ones that only stated the obvious. 

An obvious answer which made her want to vomit. 

Fate. 

She never believed in fate. She never wanted to believe that the perfect life was laid out for her and that she’d follow it to the tee without any will of her own. That idea essentially robbed her of everything she’d wanted for herself. 

Everything, except meeting Paul. 

If they’d found one another in every reset, and their souls completed one another's, then shouldn’t that be the work of fate? 

She didn’t believe in soulmates, either, before she met Paul. But that was largely because she didn’t believe anybody could love her in the ways he did. 

He was patient where she was restless. 

He was kind where she was less than graceful. 

He was gentle where she was rough around the edges. 

And yet, he gave her the motivation to find out the Emma Perkins she wanted to be. The person she’d wanted to become to be worthy of his love. To be worthy of him. 

He was the exception in her mind, to what she had to thank fate for. 

As she finished tying off a sturdy knot in the laces of her boots, she began to apply kneepads to the cargo pants she’d been provided with, when a soft knock at the door caught her attention. 

“I’m decent,” she called out tiredly, turning her attention back to the equipment she still had to apply in order to be ready for this mission. 

She stood, pulling her hair into a tight ponytail when she noticed the figure softly closing the door, standing in front of her with a quiet sort of reverence. 

Paul was leaning up against the wall as he watched her, his eyes softly looking over her as she strapped on what she could. At the sight of her, she noticed his gaze had softened with a sadness she hated seeing him wear. 

While he’d understood the reasons _why_ she had to go on the mission, she knew he didn’t like it. 

“You can come all the way in, nerd,” she whispered, trying to keep her tone light and playful, “You don’t have to just sulk by the door.” 

He exhaled through his nose in what might have been a small laugh and walked slowly over to her, a sad smile crossing his worried expression. 

He sat down slowly on the bench beside her, remaining silent as if he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

She sat down next to him, taking his hand gently in hers, avoiding looking at his face. If she did, she was certain she’d want to stop. 

She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to leave him. 

But Tim needed to be saved. And she was the only person she trusted to get him back. 

“They finish debriefing you on your role?” she asked, trying to break the ice as she stood to remove her combat vest from the locker, “John was insistent that you be the one to run MC.” 

“Yeah,” his voice was barely a whisper as he stared off into nothingness, “I know what I need to do...I just hope I can do it right.” 

“You will,” she assured him as she struggled to get the vest on and buckle it correctly, “If there’s anyone who can do it without involving too many people, it’s you.” 

“Tell that to Schaeffer,” Paul murmured with a humorless laugh, “She didn’t seem at all pleased that she was stuck with evacuation.” 

“Well, she wasn’t there to discover the lab,” Emma reasoned, still struggling to find the appropriate buckles on the bulky vest, “Besides, she’s good at wrangling people, I’m sure John knew what he was doing when he assigned her there.”

“Here,” he stood and went behind her, finding the buckles and slipping them perfectly into their place, securing the black vest to her, snug around her black sweater and cargo pants that made up the combat outfit, in addition to the protective knee and elbow pads and helmet that she would add later.

She turned around in his arms to look at him and saw that his blue eyes were welling up with tears.

“Hey...” she whispered, cupping his jaw gently, “It's gonna be okay...okay?”

He said nothing, filling her heart with dread. Instead of saying anything and breaking the silence, he just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him in a warm hug that she never wanted to end. She loved how she fits almost perfectly under his chin, the way he almost enveloped her entire being with every embrace. There was something gentle about his embrace, however, that seemed to express desperation she couldn’t quite understand. Like he was holding everything back. 

She could feel his chest shaking against her as he quietly cried, burying his sobs into her neck as he held her closer. 

“Paul…” she pulled back slightly to cup his jaw gently, “Talk to me...please.”

She led them both to the bench, sitting down gently as they clung to one another. He still refused to say anything, only holding her tighter as silent tears slipped down his face. 

In some way, she could understand his pain. She was leaving him for a mission that they knew there were slim chances of her coming back. Hope wasn’t a luxury they could afford with a situation as dire as this...and they were both scared. 

No. _Scared_ didn't cut it.

 _Terrified_ was far better when it came to describing how they felt. 

Maybe there was a better word for the kind of fear that was gripping Emma’s heart at the moment, but terror was the best description she could think of.

She was terrified that she would fail Tim. 

She was terrified that she would die out there. 

She was terrified that she would fail Tom and Jane. 

_She was terrified that she would leave Paul behind_. 

Instead of saying anything to persuade him to talk to her more, she just held onto him, letting him release what worry and pain he needed to, trying to avoid crying herself. Instead, she just soaked up what it felt like to be in his arms. The strength, yet gentleness, with which he held her had always been one of her favorite things about being in his arms. She nestled under his chin as they sat in silence, soaking up a moment they hoped wouldn’t be their last they’d spend together.

“I’m not going to ask you to stop,” he whispered into her hair, breaking the silence, “I just-” 

He trailed off as if the words were difficult to say for him to say. Like they were words he couldn’t bear to say. 

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered, almost like he was embarrassed to say it, “I just... _can’t.”_

She felt a knot build in her throat as she looked up at him, holding onto him tighter. 

She couldn’t lose him either. Which was another reason for her doing this. If they succeeded in killing Hidgens and getting Tim back, then they’d be safe. Right? 

God, she wanted nothing more than for them to be safe and together. 

She had _not_ just realized what a family she had to lose them again. 

She wouldn’t chance it. 

She was doing this for Tim, at the base of it all, but really, it was for her entire family. So that she could protect them as best she could. 

“I can’t lose you either, Paul,” she whispered, burying her face in his neck as she clung to him, “But I have to do this.” 

He nodded with a choked-off whisper, “I know…” 

She inhaled and exhaled sharply, pulling away to look at him, “I promise you, Paul...” she trailed off.

What promises could she make that she could keep? 

What promises wouldn’t be broken by life? 

She wasn’t confident enough in their chances to make promises. But what else could she say?

She knew that she was determined to save Tim. And she was determined to come home to him. She had faith that she would save Tim, but she didn’t necessarily know what chances of her return that this mission gave her. Paul knew too, otherwise, they wouldn’t have been having this conversation. 

She pulled back again, cupping his jaw in her hands and pressing her forehead against his, gently stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. He mirrored the action as he gently caressed her face, his blue eyes boring into her brown ones. 

“I promise you, Paul,” she whispered to him again, her voice shaky as she delivered her promises. 

She’d be damned for eternity if she didn’t make good on them. 

But she would. 

She would see them happy again. 

Happy, safe, and together.

Forever and always.

“I promise,” she began for the third time, “We’ll be together again. I _will_ save Tim, and we’ll be together...safe and sound...I swear to you, Paul…” 

“Emma…” he breathed, his voice cutting off with a choked cry. He closed his eyes as she continued to talk, holding onto him tighter, making sure he knew she was serious.

“I swear,” she continued, “We’ll be okay...everything will be okay again...okay?” 

He shakily exhaled, opening his eyes again. For a moment, he just stared at her, his tear-filled blue eyes staring into her own like he was trying to take in their every detail. Committing every inch of her face to memory. 

In a small whisper, he affirmed what she’d promised him, “Okay…” 

She leaned up and pressed a light kiss to his forehead, “Now let’s go kick the Black and White’s ass, okay?” 

He chuckled lightly and nodded “Okay.”

She stood, planning to go grab a helmet from the rack across the room when she was suddenly pulled back into his arms as he stood. 

Within moments, his lips were on hers in a desperate and passionate kiss, conveying every ounce of love he had for her, which she readily and reflexively reciprocated. Her hands went to his soft hair, knitting into it and pulling him closer to her as they shared what she prayed to God wouldn’t be their last kiss. 

In this kiss, she felt a melancholy sort of buzz in her stomach. A fear that she would never get this again with him. That she would never again see the love of her life. The one she’d spent so long fighting for, and now they were potentially going to be ripped away from one another again by death. While she refused to think like that, again, the facts were there. 

She didn’t want the kiss to end, even as they broke away to breathe, pressing their foreheads together as he stared into her eyes. She stole another brief kiss at his soft lips, and then another, and another, desperate to tell him without using words, how much she loved him.

Once the desperate small kisses stopped, he cupped her face again, staring into her eyes full of love, but also a slight amount of fear, “I love you so much, Em,” he whispered. 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, nuzzling her head into his as she hugged him once more, “I love you too, Paul,” she murmured into his skin, “So much.” 

He reciprocated her embrace, just holding onto one another. Nothing selfish or lustful in their touch, just desperation to commit one another to memory. Desperation to remember the promises they made to one another. An embrace neither wanted to leave. 

The crackle of the intercom interrupted their hug, making her heart sink to her stomach and Paul shake again. 

_“_ **_Response Team HH3C under General McNamara and Major Lee, please report to transport bay 32B”_ **

Paul’s grip on her tightened gently, as if he didn’t want to let her go. He didn’t. She knew that. But they both knew that was what must be done. 

“It’s time,” she looked up at him, to which he simply nodded. 

He loosened his grip on her, allowing her to stand as he walked over to the rack to retrieve a helmet that appeared to suit her and handed it to her. 

As she took the helmet from him, she leaned back into his arms, offering one last brief embrace before she went off on a mission that would determine whether or not their world survived. A mission that dictated whether or not they deserved to live or die. 

He pressed a kiss to her hair, hugging her tighter. 

“I love you Em,” he murmured again, “Forever and always.” 

As she broke away and looked up at him, about to head for the door, she smiled sadly in response. Holding onto the words and what love they contained. 

What she’d ever done to deserve such a wonderful patient man like the one standing in front of her was beyond her. Even with every cold goodbye, they knew there was always an even sweeter and warmer hello waiting for when they would meet again. 

Maybe even if things did go south on this mission, they would find each other again. 

They’d always be there for one another, fighting to be back in one another's arms, even when they didn’t realize it. 

Never too much and always enough. 

Always them. 

Even when she didn’t know he existed, some part of her knew she loved Paul Matthews. 

They were meant for one another and loved one another... 

“Forever and always.” 

\---

Webby could almost taste the fresh air of a world that was rightfully hers as she waited. 

She was so close. 

So close. 

So close to having her family back together.   
All she needed was for the pauper to slice through the fabric of the world, attempting to claim what he thought was his, and she'd be free. 

She’d take the knife and then...well…

Armageddon would be there. 

They’d be in the forms of Webby, Wiggog Y’Wrath, Nibblenephim, Pokotho, Bliklotep, and T’noy Karaxis.

The world would be theirs. 

A perfect world where those who didn’t bow would perish. 

The blood of Mask, Hush, Drown, and Void would allow them to earn the power they needed to begin, and the blood of the human being who thought they could stand against them would sustain them for the rest of eternity. 

They would bend to the will of the Lords in Black or they would be shattered upon the rocks. 

Hatchetfield would be the capital city of a prosperous world built on blood, chaos, and bone. 

Her web was perfectly spun, and all of the little insects were trapped within it without realizing. 

All she needed to do was what she’d been doing for centuries. 

Wait. 

She was wise for having as much patience as she did. Far wiser than her brothers and sister, and those paupers, Mask, Drown, Void, and Hush. 

While Mask played little god down in Hatchetfield, wearing the skin of Henry Hidgens, exploiting his spontaneous and really quite _stupid_ plans, she had been planning and plotting this for eons. She’d been slow to make her moves, but when she did, they were strong and precise. Setting events into motion like a cataclysmic catalyst.

She was ready. 

And wherever her brothers and sister were, she knew they were ready too. 

The time had come. 

And she couldn’t wait for the blood to be spilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, they’re about to go on the mission that will determine whether or not they live or die.  
> And Schaeffer....whats up with her?  
> Also...I was in the mood for soft/sad Paulkins today.  
> Hopefully, nothing will go wrong!!!
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos if you would like!!! I greatly appreciate any feedback or comments on what I've been writing. If not, that's totally fine!!! I appreciate you all the same!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!! I know we're in the home stretch for part one of this series and I am so excited to see what you guys think of it!!!!!
> 
> Thank you again, and have an amazing day!!!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	44. Make Myself a Pact Not to Shut Doors on the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission begins...nothing can go wrong...right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS BOY IS SO LONG IM SO SORRY
> 
> The title for this chapter comes from the song ’Inside Job’ by Pearl Jam
> 
> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!:Minor eye horror (nothing terribly graphic, but it's worth mentioning)

Reset No. 6

Date: August 27th, 2018 

Being of Facades

Lex shifted as much as she could from her place on the couch, craning her neck so she could listen to the emergency broadcasts Schaeffer had given to _Morning Cup O’ News_. So far, all there had been were more filler stories about how Peanuts the Pocket Squirrel had accomplished some great feat like using a toaster or playing the piano (even if it sounded like a toddler was slamming down on the keys ceaselessly). Nothing about the impending danger that was going to come crashing down on Hatchetfield before they knew what was going to hit them.

Once again, they were back in the small apartment PEIP had given her small family, snuggled in Ethan and Hannah’s arms. 

After getting released from the infirmary, John and Xander had released orders for all civilians (except for Paul, who was going to be working Mission Control) to be confined to their apartment for their safety. Because of this, Lex, Ethan, and Hannah had merely curled up on the couch and waited for the emergency broadcasts to start playing as they paid little attention to Donna’s incessant rambling only to be met by little input by Dan other than an occasional, very enthusiastic, ‘That’s amazing Donna!’. 

Lex tried to stifle a gag. She’d been sick of Hatchetfield’s resident news channel since she was six years old and her mother had been obsessed with Dan’s winning smile. Always talking to the screen in her disgusting drunken drawl, in a way that was too annoying and often for it to be appropriate for Hannah to hear. Still, every morning, there the show was, playing loudly on their shitty TV, while Pamela watched eagerly. 

After several years of that, Lex had to avoid gagging every time the theme for _Morning Cup O’ News_ came on. Today was no exception. 

After the seventh ‘That’s amazing Donna’ Lex groaned and leaned into Ethan’s warmth. They’d been watching the news for about two hours just waiting for the emergency broadcast that John had been so insistent on releasing to play, and yet, in true Hatchetfield fashion, no broadcast was played. Typical. 

“It’s like they think we’re all fuckin’ crazy!” Ethan groaned, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Lex, “Like they don’t value fuckin’ safety at all!” 

“Does that surprise you, though,” she chuckled, just enjoying being held by him again, “In the past resets, Paul said Hatchetfield wasn’t great at handling things like this.” 

“Yeah,” Ethan laughed, “Absolutely god-awful at handling crises.” 

“So this isn't a shocker?” Lex confirmed. 

Ethan shook his head, his eyes disappointed, “No. But you’d think they’d be better.” 

She hummed in response and looked down at Hannah, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, pulling her flannel close to her body as she watched. Somehow, Lex could tell that her sister wasn’t actually paying attention to the many great feats of a small squirrel, or the small bits of information surrounding the English duchess that was in town for reasons nobody really cared about. 

“Banana,” Lex asked carefully, “You okay?” 

Her sister didn’t look up at her, making Lex sit up and slip off the couch, sitting down next to her, “Hannah?” 

Hannah didn’t turn away from the screen. Her eyes were unblinking as she watched, consuming every detail of the screen without actually being present. Without turning to her sister or Ethan she murmured, “Almost.” 

“Almost...what?” Ethan asked, kneeling on the other side of her, sharing a concerned look with Lex, “Almost time for something?” 

Hannah didn’t respond, remaining frozen as she stared at the glowing box. 

Had it not been for all of the concerning and freaky shit Lex had been through throughout the past few weeks, she could have been worried beyond imagination with her sister’s activity, but since she and Paul had managed to locate Tim, she could only view these things as normal. 

”Almost time,” Hannah muttered, “Mission beginning, the broadcast will come…”

Lex and Ethan shared a look of confusion. They knew that Hannah would always know more about a situation than they would. It was inevitable with as much as she could see and hear. Although Lex could sense things to a certain extent, she knew her sister was far greater in terms of power and ability. The fact didn’t bother Lex. The only thing that left her slightly on edge in terms of Hannah’s abilities were the negative impacts they could have on Hannah’s life.

She was very lucky that Hannah hadn’t done anything similar to what Emma had when she’d been tearing herself apart through the Black and White to retrieve memories of Paul. She was lucky that the Black and White didn’t have any negative health impacts on her sister. The fact that their mother hadn’t even taken care to bring either of them to a doctor in their lifetimes was a testament to her awful parenting but made the fact that neither of them had gotten sick in their lives very fortunate. 

Ethan reached behind Hannah and took Lex’s hand in his own, squeezing gently. She smiled slightly. 

The knowledge that they all might die today if the mission went wrong weighed heavily. While she tried to avoid thinking about it, the dread kept settling in the pit of her stomach. 

Still, she had faith in John, Xander, and Emma. She even had faith in Paul (who was apparently her cousin?) who would be running mission control while their small team of five tried to retrieve Tim and eliminate Hidgens. She refused to allow herself to think fatalistically. 

She refused to believe that she would lose Ethan again. 

The fact that she’d lived through at the very least three lifetimes without him was beyond her. She couldn’t imagine a life without him in it, and yet, somehow, up until a month ago, she didn’t know he existed. And she only had the chance to learn who he was when the world began to crumble around him.

Once Emma had returned their memories to them, the knowledge of all that he’d done for her and Hannah had given her something to hold on to. Something she could depend on other than herself. It was freeing, really, to know that she had a person who was bonded to her soul, someone who would protect her and Hannah regardless of what was thrown at them. 

She couldn’t have imagined what it must have been like. To be trapped in the cold and dark of the Black and White for so long. At the very least he’d had John and Paul, but neither of them had to _die_ to be there. 

That was another fact that had made her feel guilty every time she thought about how he’d had to die. 

The fact that some assholes had kicked him to death...for a fucking weird-looking _doll._

The knowledge that he’d been _murdered_ was a lot for her to take. 

Some nights while they were all cuddled up on the big bed the two of them shared, in the bedroom, while Hannah utilized the couch, she could hear him whimpering in his sleep. Curling in on himself as if he was trying to shield himself from the blows that invisible mall goers were giving him. She didn’t want to bring it up, as the idea in itself was a lot to take in, and the fact that he never mentioned it made it all the more a difficult topic to wrestle. She’d bring it up eventually, she just didn’t know how to open that door. 

As she looked at his ice-blue eyes, and the way they searched her and Hannah intently, she felt a warmth fill her. A kind of warmth that made her feel like she’d finally found a sense of what home was like. Of course, it wasn’t in that crappy trailer home, with their sorry excuse for a mother (who she guiltily hoped would find the eventual emergency broadcast to be a hoax and would ignore it). It wasn’t in the garage with Mr. Green, or in Mr. Houston’s class. It wasn’t even in the apartment the three of them were staying in right now. Rather, it was in the two most important people she’d had in her life once again. As long as she had them with her, she felt like she could accomplish anything, go anywhere...which is how she’d felt in the reset she’d lost Ethan in.

They’d made plans to go to California, just like they were in this one before Ethan had died and the world had ended. She found it odd that she could remember every excruciating detail of that Black Friday. She knew it was from a previous lifetime, but the knowledge that it had happened, that she’d _seen_ every single atrocity that was committed...it was a lot to take in. 

“You okay?” Ethan whispered. 

She nodded, “This...is just a lot, y’know.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “Tell me about it…” 

She looked up at him again, “You think it’ll all be okay?” 

He sighed, hesitating on the words. If they’d been in their past life, she probably would have seen an optimsm that they all would have maintained.

That optimism had been enough to make them believe that seven thousand would be enough for them to sustain themselves in California.

That optimism had been enough for them to believe they’d actually escape Hatchetfield and build a life for themselves.

That optimism had let them believe they could live a normal life. 

That had been so long ago. 

“To be honest, babe,” he whispered, almost as if he didn’t want Hannah to hear, “I don’t know…” 

“We can’t expect the worst...right?” she tried to keep her tone hopeful. She couldn’t accept defeat just yet. Witch heritage and strange powers at play be damned, she was determined to make sure she and her family was safe. 

She’d make sure they had that future in California.

It didn’t matter what Hidgens and his freaky powers had done to her...or what he was planning to do. She wanted that life in California with Ethan and Hannah. Ethan could follow in his dad’s footsteps and start his own garage like he always wanted, Hannah could be exposed to her art and music in all the ways she’d wanted, and Lex...she could be around a theatrical scene that would help her become the actress she always aspired to be.

California was waiting for them and she wasn’t gonna let the end of the world stop them. 

“Right?” she prompted, making him smile slightly. 

“I-I don’t know, Lex,” Ethan smiled, “I’d like to hope though...I have faith in our friends though...I mean...Johnny knows his shit, and he and Xander are powerhouses...add Emma and Paul and...I mean-” he fell back against the edge of the couch and ran a hand through his dark curls, messed up by how long they’d been laying against the couch since being released by the infirmary. 

“I don’t think this is the end of the world,” Ethan continued, “Things kinda suck...I know...but I don’t think it could get much worse…”

Quickly, he extended a hand towards the coffee table and knocked against it quickly, making Lex laugh, “You still superstitious as fuck?” 

“You’d better believe it, babe,” he chuckled as he leaned back against the couch, rubbing gently over her knuckles with his fingers, “It couldn’t hurt to have a little good luck...right? Johnny, Emma, and Xander could use it...Tim too…”

At the mention of the boy’s name, both of their faces fell. While neither of them were really well acquainted with the Houston boy, the fact that he’d been taken had left them all nauseous. He’d been friendly with Hannah, been understanding of her boundaries and had even been called her friend by Hannah herself.

By all accounts he was a sweet boy, and he was Mr. Houston’s world. Which was why the fact that such a young buy had been kidnapped for reasons neither of them understood had left such a nasty mark on all of them. To make matters worse, Paul and Emma both adored the boy, which made them all the more susceptible to the wound that Hidgens had left. If Lex understood it correctly, that was why Emma had volunteered to be the one tasked with retrieving him. The fact that they’d lost Jane, Mr. Houston’s wife and Emma’s sister less than a year before, made the idea of losing the boy all the more worse. 

She hated the gall of the man that had taken him. She hated Hidgens just as much as she hated her mother. The two of them had used Hannah and her for their own gain. The only difference between them, as far as she was concerned, was that Hidgens was probably a wine guy, while Pamela ate, drank, bled, and sweated beer. 

As she looked over at Hannah and Ethan, the two most important people in her life, Lex could only think of what future she’d wanted for the three of them so badly. She was barely an adult, and yet, she was ready to take the steps necessary to ensure that they remained safe. 

They were lucky that they were kept in the apartment while everything outside descended into chaos. In spite of her instincts to fight, she felt like being safe with Ethan and Hannah limited the chances of her losing them, which was something she was unwilling to do. 

After the fifth commercial ad for Gary Goldstein’s local law firm, which made Ethan flinch (wasn’t Gary the one who’d killed him?) Ethan fell back against the couch with a groan. 

“Oh, God,” he groaned, pushing his hands through his hair in exasperation, “Are they just igno-”

“Wait!” Hannah whispered, urgency in her tone, cutting Ethan off and causing them to turn to her. 

As if on cue, the TV began to blare loudly. 

_“We interrupt this story to bring to you an emergency broadcast from the U.S. Military. Citizens of Hatchetfield are advised to follow the indicated maps and pathways. This is not a drill. All citizens are advised to follow the indicated maps and pathways to the cliffside caves, where military personnel will evacuate you in an orderly fashion. This is not a drill. Please evacuate to the cliffside caves in a calm and orderly fashion. Do not panic. This is not a drill.”_

As the broadcast continued to play, mercifully absolving Donna of her snobbish accent and Dan of his cringe-worthy smile, Lex and Ethan shared a look that seemed to scream. 

Hannah turned to the two of them, taking their hands in hers, murmuring only…

“It’s begun.” 

\---

The vehicle bounced as it made its way down the rocky trails of the Witchwood, where their mission would begin. 

The grey trees and bark were barely visible in the early Hatchetfield morning, stretching far up ahead of them, making it seem like they were running through the hallways of a barren manor. In spite of it being late summer, the tree’s appeared as if they were grey and the leaves composed of different kinds of metal, making them feel like they were more inside a prison instead of a forest. Xander was fairly certain it hadn’t looked this way when 

Xander played with his fingers as John directed them, navigating them through the trails that few Hatchetfield citizens ever utilized with a strong look in his eyes. Behind those green eyes that Xander had fallen in love with, he could see a storm of calculation, determined to get them to their destination. They’d made it through the Hatchetfield Cemetery easily, making it to the access trails through the woods relatively quickly. All that mattered now was following Paul’s instructions through the intercom telling them where to go, directing them to the place where Willabella Muckwab had met her fate...and if all went smoothly, Henry Hidgens would as well. 

Because the GPS on the car, showing where they were in relation to their final destination, was broken, and they didn’t have time to commission another vehicle, Paul was giving them directions as to how to reach where they’d said Tim and Hidgens were from PEIP command. Xander had to admit, he was a little dubious when John had assigned Paul to command Mission Control while they were out attempting to slay Hidgens, but in the twenty minutes that they’d been on the road, Paul had been calm and controlled, delivering each set of instructions like he’d felt no fear at all. He knew it was different inside the man’s mind, but the way he managed to compose himself in the face of whatever it was that they would be confronting was impressive. 

“ _John, in about five hundred feet,”_ Paul’s voice crackled clearly through the receivers in their helmets, “ _You’re gonna want to cut left on the trail. Be careful though, from the maps the path looks narrow and filled with overgrowth.”_

“The vehicle can take it,” John responded, cutting left and following Paul’s instruction to a tee.

 _“Great,”_ Paul’s calm and professional voice continued, “ _Now, you’re gonna go straight for what looks like around eight hundred feet, and then you’re gonna turn southeast, that should be indicated on the vehicle compass.”_

Xander watched as Emma, sitting in the backseat, clutching the barrel of her rifle as they drove, smile at the sound of Paul’s voice, as if the precise way he delivered the instructions gave her some form of comfort.

The other two operatives they’d chosen to tag along in the place of Tom and Rodney, Wentworth and Wilkins, if he remembered correctly, had sat stiffly and silent for the entirety of the trip, as if knowing that they would meet the end of the world on this mission, adjusting their equipment silently, clearly uncomfortably to be conducting the same mission a civilian woman was on. When they’d been assigned to join John, Xander, and Emma on the mission, they’d accepted but Xander had seen the hesitation in their eyes as they did. Both were young men, only a few years younger than Emma, and yet they showed a great deal of fear when they’d been debriefed on their target as well as their aim. 

Killing a Being of the Black and White. 

Not an easy task to fulfill.

Emma, however, had shown more tenacity than either of them, not showing any form of discomfort. Her mind was on saving her nephew, he could tell. Since Tim had been taken, she and Paul had both acted like the most tenacious of officers, and spent as much time as they could making sure the mission went off without a hitch. In the five hours since they’d conceived the plan in Lex and Ethan’s hospital room, Emma had told Tom of their plan, Paul had been debriefed, Emma had accepted her loaned gear and been refreshed on how to work her authorized firearms, Paul had stepped into the appropriate position in command, and they’d developed every single detail they could about their conduct, intending to do everything they could to get this done as quickly as they could.

They had spent so long focusing on every single detail and developed the plan so quickly, they only prayed that they weren’t too late. 

They had no idea what timeframe Hidgens was working under, but the fact that the world hadn’t ended yet gave him some hope that they were working fast enough. All they could do was hope that they reached the location in time so that Hidgens hadn’t yet started and they would be able to save the boy and stop him before his true power was restored. 

The emergency broadcast had gone out only moments before, and Xander had to give Schaeffer credit; it was very informative without inciting a panic. He figured it could have done without the repetition of ‘this is not a drill’, though. Still, he was grateful that June had managed to get it done and hoped that the people of Hatchetfield would take it seriously. 

“ _Alright, stop the vehicle,”_ Paul instructed, allowing John to pull to an abrupt stop that sent the group lurching forward in their seatbelts, “ _You’ll want to proceed on foot, now if you want secrecy to be maintained.”_

“Head’s up on the sensors, Xander,” Emma chirped suddenly, her voice steady and stiff, “Look down.” 

Xander looked down at the small screen he and Emma were holding. Around the indicated regions of the forest, he could see a swirl of light blue forming a little ways away from where their vehicle was indicated to be. 

“Paul,” Xander spoke into his mic, “You seeing this?” 

“ _Yeah,_ ” Paul responded, his voice sounding grave, “ _Yeah, I’m seeing it...in comparison to the map I’m using to direct you, it’s exactly where you’re supposed to be going, so you may want to follow the sensors rather than my instruction.”_

“He’s already started?” John asked, looking down at the map. 

“ _According to Xander’s parameters it doesn’t look like it’s far along,”_ Paul responded, his voice slightly cutting out slightly.

“I agree,” Xander concurred, “He’d probably still be preparing...If he’s cutting through the fabric of the Black and White, then we’d see darker shades of purple, not light blue.” 

“ _But you better hurry,”_ Paul continued, “ _Exit the vehicle and then you’re gonna turn right...follow the trail indicated on Xander and Emma’s sensors.”_

“Copy that, mission control,” John murmured, before pulling his firearm from its place and pushing open the doors. 

As they all exited the vehicle, they remained extremely quiet, the cool wind of the early morning brushing against them as they followed Paul’s instructions. The grey overgrowth of the forest seemed to block them off from the rest of the world in wall-like structures of foliage. 

“Energy levels rising,” Emma whispered as they pushed away the different plants that tried to scrape at their every limb as they walked through. Behind her, Xander took note of Wentworth and Wilkins muttering silent prayers under their breath. 

They’d been walking through the thick plant life and bramble for about ten minutes, when Paul’s voice cut through the intercom again. 

“ _The energy levels just hit a spike,”_ he said calmly, “ _But you’re approaching the indicated point. Proceed with caution.”_

Xander could hear the slight amount of nervous energy return to Paul’s voice with that acknowledgement. He looked ahead to his husband, leading the small group through the woods, scouting ahead in search of what they’d come here for. He knew that there was no turning back, and he settled to do what needed to be done. Beside him, Emma moved forward, her dark eyes focused, dead-set on retrieving her nephew. Behind the ferocity in her eyes that mimicked soil, he could see a flash of fear, like she was considering the consequences of the mission for the first time. He recognized it. It was a look he’d worn on every dangerous mission he’d been in. For a split second, she caught his gaze, and he offered her a look of reassurance. With that, she blinked away the fear and trudged ahead. 

The woods were thick. All of the plants were stiff and green, but in the early morning light, they appeared as though they were composed of fear. Bitterly, he remembered what Paul had said about each tree appearing as if it were the same, wondering how Hidgens had even found the tree Willabella had once hanged from, lifeless in her deceit, pledging her allegiance to the terrifying forces of the Black and White which sought to destroy them all. 

Suddenly, John stopped, holding his hand up in a position that brought them to an abrupt halt. 

“I’ve got eyes on the target,” He whispered, his voice coming clearly through the comms. 

“ _Analysis, General McNamara?”_ Paul responded appropriately, his voice slightly strained as the fateful next words were delivered.

“Two subjects,” John murmured, signalling for Xander to hustle up behind him and join him in analysis, “The target is at a willow tree at one o’clock, he has the hostage bound with some kind of glass substance tied to the base of a tree around seven o’clock. Target appears to be preoccupied with carving some sort of intricately detailed symbol into the tree.” 

Xander moved to stand beside John, quietly crouching down beside him to see what he was seeing. 

In front of them was a clearing, with grey leaves littering the ground like a weird form of tacky carpeting. Hidgens was the first figure he noticed, standing at the base of a large overgrown willow tree. Like John had seen, Hidgens was dragging a big black dagger through the bark of the tree, almost perfectly and precisely carving a symbol Xander didn’t recognize. Much like Hannah had mentioned, the knife clearly held some significance to what Hidgens was doing, judging from the way that he held it, and the way he inspected the carvings, it was of the utmost importance that they get the knife away from him. 

“ _He has the knife?_ ” Paul confirmed. 

“Affirmative,” John nodded, moving closer, “He keeps carving this detailed symbol into the tree.”

As Hidgens drew the knife through the bark once more, in a straight line that added another layer to the sectioning off of the carving, Xander glanced down at the sensor he held in his hand and noticed a simultaneous darkening swirl of blue form around the tree. 

“The energy levels are spiking the more he carves,” Xander whispered, “We’ve got to get the knife away from him.”

“ _Affirmative, Major, but first we have to be sure...What’s the status of Tim?”_ Paul continued. 

Xander glanced over to the area that John had indicated in his analysis and saw the boy. 

He appeared to be glued to the base of a tree, with a grey glass substance covering his lower legs. He was leaning up against the tree as he shook and cried, his eyes red and puffy. Xander didn’t need to glance behind him to see Emma’s grip on her weapon tighten. He could tell every cell in her body was fighting against the urge to run forward and grab her nephew from danger’s clutches, but she was unwilling to compromise the mission. 

“Houston is safe, he looks as if he’s bound to the ground with a grey glass substance,” John whispered, “Other than that, he looks unharmed.” 

“ _The glass is grey?”_ Paul clarified, _“Does it have any silver veins running through it?”_

Xander looked and saw that Paul was correct in his assumption. 

“Affirmative,” he confirmed, “What does this mean…”

“You’ll need the knife to break it,” Emma whispered, “We’ll have to get it away from him first.”

“ _Copy that, Em,”_ Paul continued, his voice wavering on her nickname, “ _Does he seem distr-”_

Paul’s voice began to crackle and fizz in and out of the appropriate frequency, making his voice sound jumbled. The group exchanged worried glances as their grips on their weapons tightened. 

“Paul, come in,” John began, his voice not wavering, “Come in mission control. Come-”

 _“Oh, General John McNamara,”_ a chilling voice echoed throughout the trees, making horrific chills run up and down his spine, his eyes locked on Johns, both widening as they recognized the condescending croon of Henry Hidgens- or rather, the demon that was wearing his skin, “ _Don’t you know it’s rude to show up to a party uninvited?”_

_No._

His blood ran cold as the irony and annoyance mixed with pure fear settled into his bones.

_Of course, he knew they were coming._

_Of course, this would have never been so easy._

Internally, he cursed himself for being so stupid in believing that they could have a chance for this being easy.

John and Xander locked eyes, both unsure of what to do as Paul’s voice crackled in and out of what they could hear. The group shrank behind the bushes as Hidgens continued to speak. 

_“I’m assuming dear Emma is with you?”_ the old man cackled, making more unpleasant shivers run up Xander’s spine, making him grit his teeth, “ _Figures. She was either going to be stupid or be cowardly...I figured young Timothy would seal the deal…”_

A loud sob came from Tim. Xander craned his neck over the bushes and saw that the boy’s head was whipping around incessantly, as if trying so hard to find where his potential rescuers were. Xander could have sworn he heard the boy whimper ‘Aunt Emma’ as if he was silently crying out for her to help him. He took one look at Emma’s face and could see that her heart was breaking. 

Xander leaned in, “Dr. Hidgens, you don’t need to do this…” 

The old man threw his head back in heinous laughter, “ _Oh but I do, Xander...You would never understand…_ ”

Wentworth and Wilkins adjusted their weapons, preparing to fire, despite John’s insistent gestures not to. Xander was barely able to catch the old man rolling his eyes before he spoke again.

“ _Really, John?”_ The old man spat in his overdramatic drawl, “ _Side characters? You know I don’t have time for this...why not just put them in red shirts or whatever Star-Trek-Wars does?”_

With a wave of the old man’s hands, the foliage that had been shielding them from the old man’s view was covered with grey glass as if it were something like frost. Within moments the plants evaporated, disintegrating into nothingness, leaving them exposed. Before they had time to react, black tendrils of smoke came out of nowhere and wrapped around Wilkins and Wentworth, dragging them forward and to the center of the clearing with shouts of immense protest. They fell to their knees before the old man, raising their guns only to have them knocked away.

The two of them shuddered as they stared up at the old man leering over them, forcing John to stumble forward into action about to fire a shot at the old man, before his gun, too, was ripped from him. Xander grappled at John’s arm, pulling him back, helpless and unsure of what to do as the cruel old man smiled viciously and waved his hand. 

Almost instantly, a sheen of grey glass formed over the bodies of Wentworth and Wilkins, making them scream in pain as they began to freeze. Xander’s heart clenched as, without warning, they froze, their last expressions of terror frozen on their face. He exchanged a horrified look with John as two of their best operatives, much like the plants that had protected them from Hidgens’ view, crumbled into dust, never to be seen again. 

“Now…” Hidgens smiled at the three of them, all of them frozen in terror as they stared at the remains of the two operatives, filled with a horror none of them could understand, “Now that I have the people I _really_ wanted to see, the fun can begin.”

Xander looked from John to Emma, fear settling in his veins. Over the intercom, Paul’s voice was still jumbled and frantic in the ways that few words made it through. He glanced at the sobbing little boy, his tear-filled eyes squeezed shut as he refused to look at them, terrified at what the old man might do to his aunt and people who'd been like uncles to him in his early life.

Everything had spun out of control so quickly, Xander truly didn't know what to do.

He had an objective, but he didn't know how to accomplish it, and it made his blood run cold. 

So, in that moment, Xander James Lee did what was possibly one of the stupidest things he'd ever done in his whole life, and launched himself at the old man’s legs.

\---

“Come in, General, ” Paul continued to say, trying to keep his voice as calm as he could possibly keep it. 

He turned to Rodney, who’d been assigned the position of their tech manager on mission control, “Keep trying, get them back.”

The younger man nodded with a grave expression on his face, turning to his monitor as he sought to find the root of interference. Paul tried to quell the waves of nervous energy that demanded he lose his nerve. He refused to give in. This mission held Emma and Tim’s lives in its grasp, and he was supposed to provide an element of control. If he were to lose his mind, like every cell in his body demanded, everything would truly be lost. So, instead of descending into hyperventilation, he inhaled and exhaled sharply, trying to remain patient and not worry.

The cameras had cut out mere seconds after they’d watched the two most effective operatives that John had assigned to the mission be disintegrated into grey dust, sending shivers up and down Paul's spine. The screen that had shown their vitals began to blare and beep, signifying that they were dead. Paul buried his face in his hands as his stomach dropped, they’d been conducting the mission for less than twenty minutes now, and two of the five people sent out of the mission were dead. He really wished they’d had more time before they knew what was going to hit them.

Wouldn't that be nice? If the apocalypse just gave them the actual date and time?

He turned to Tom and Becky, who John had authorized to be present in mission control to watch the mission as it carried on. Tom was in a wheelchair, with heavy bandages around his abdomen that were barely concealed by the hospital gown and sweatpants, and had a portable IV drip that was delivering pain medication to him at regular intervals. Beside him, sat Becky, who'd cleaned herself up and didn't look like she'd slept much since the attack, clutching Tom’s hand tightly. He could feel their own fear running through his veins as he tried desperately to keep himself under control. 

The cameras that had been on Xander’s helmet, much like the communications server, had fallen into nothing but static, making a chill of fear grip his heart. He wished he knew what to do. 

However, instead of just standing there doing nothing, he walked over to Rodney’s station to watch as he tried to restore comm lines. 

“It’s meeting some kind of interference, “ Rodney whispered, “I’m trying to lock onto their signal.” 

“What about the cameras on Xander’s helmet?” Paul asked, glancing over at Tom who’d gone a sheet like color since Xander’s camera had caught a glimpse of Tim, who’d looked terrified beyond imagination. The sight had made Paul’s heart clench, but he refused to let it compromise what he’d sworn to John that he would do. In some ways, he had to ensure that they made it home safely, and he couldn’t allow that to be compromised. 

He’d not asked to run mission control. All he’d done was ask John where he could be useful during the mission, and John had given him an odd look, like the answer was obvious. The next thing he’d known, he was being debriefed on how to run mission control. At first, he was fairly certain that he should have told them to find someone more qualified, but John was adamant that he be the one to run Mission Control. So, after some very fast learning and soul searching, he’d accepted the role, willing to do whatever it took to make sure Emma and Tim, as well as John and Xander made it home safely.

While the situation in itself was personal for him, he knew it was necessary that he do what was needed to keep the situation under wraps. It also didn’t help that PEIP in itself was already in so much disarray with the recent attacks that had impacted the whole base. The fact that John had tried to keep everything under wraps made this all the more difficult, leaving him in charge to prevent all other people from getting hurt. While John’s rationale didn’t necessarily make sense in Paul’s mind, he was willing to do his best for Emma and for Tim. 

He tried not to think of his last few moments he’d spent with Emma in the gear room as she prepared for the mission. She’d been ready to do anything to get Tim back, and he couldn’t blame her. Though he’d wanted her to stay safe, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop her. 

She’d made promises then. Promises she didn’t know whether or not she could actually keep. 

He’d wanted her to come home to him, and he wanted Tim to be safe. He knew there would be no stopping her in the pursuit of that. 

While he and Emma weren’t married or officially bound in any way that would make Tim his nephew in any legal sense, he still considered Tim to be a member of his family. Since he’d met the small boy, way back when, he’d immediately felt drawn to the boy. In some way he looked so much like Emma, carrying with him traits that he figured were inherently Perkins, with the mischievous brown eyes that held great deals of intelligence and laughter, and the sense of humor that he’d once thought only Emma capable of. While it had taken a few babysitting jobs with Emma for him to connect completely with the boy, they were so similar on different fronts and it made things slightly easier for Emma in terms of getting to know her nephew. The knowledge that her nephew approved of her at-the-time-not-official-boyfriend, also helped their relationship become a much more common topic of conversation rather than the uncomfortable secrecy with which they approached those first few months. The knowledge that Tim liked him and understood his own way of interacting with Emma’s family, also made interaction with Tom easier. 

Tim had never hesitated to make Paul feel like he was a part of Emma’s family, and because of that, he knew that he valued Tim’s life. The fact that Tim had been taken filled him with an anger that he couldn’t describe. 

All he wanted was for Emma and Tim to come home. 

Why was life so determined to tear them apart? 

He’d found people who’d accepted him and made him feel like he had a family. Like he had people who wanted him and made him feel safe, and yet, the world was forcing them to deal with Beings of another world. 

He knew that if there was a reset, he would have to go through all of the events following Jane’s death again. He’d probably have no memory of how he’d been trapped in the Black and White, or the subsequent infection that he’d been cured of. Part of him didn’t want to forget. Although the memories of the Black and White had plagued his dreams, he knew that if he forgot, he would have no idea about the threats that Hatchetfield faced. If they forgot, they’d be caught unawares again and have to suffer loss after loss all over again. Even worse, if they were pulled back into the Black and White, he would have to watch the people he loved and cared about proceed throughout everyday life and suffer the same fates that Ethan and John had to watch. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like, to watch all of those resets in which the world ended time after time. The thought of this made him feel sick. 

“I’ve got the cameras back, sir,” Rodney uttered, snapping him out of his reverie. 

Quickly, he turned to face the screens where the images of the clearing had returned, making his stomach do flips. He beat his clenched fists together trying to ignore the shake of adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. 

While the sound had not returned, he could see Hidgens was still positioned against the tree, still carving the intricate figure into the tree bark. He cast a glance against the monitor that beheld the same data as Emma and Xander’s sensors had, showing how the energy levels rising steadily with each marking as it was made.

He searched for Emma and found her, curled flat into the ground, shielding herself from the glass and branches that went flying as Hidgens lashed out against them with his energy, not even looking back at him as he did. 

He watched, with bated breath as Emma crawled slowly over to Tim, while Xander’s camera moved around with whatever Xander was doing. As Emma shifted in and out of the focus point on Xander’s mask, Paul could tell that the three of them were being tossed around by Hidgens power ceaselessly. He could only watch as Emma pulled herself up and shielded Tim from the onslaught of glass and branches that were being thrown about. 

After a while, Xander’s camera focused on the silver-looking ground, as it looked like Xander wasn’t able to find his weapon. From what Paul could see, he scrambled against the base of the tree, being pushed up against it by what Paul could only assume was Hidgens’ abilities. But even once Xander found his weapon, he didn’t fire it. 

_What was he doing?_

“Are comms back up?” he asked Rodney, hating the way his voice sounded so desperate. 

“Not yet,” the younger man nodded, “And Xander’s camera is focusing only on the ground so I can’t tell what he’s-”

At that moment, the camera shifted upward to focus on Emma, standing a little ways away from Tim, screaming something at Hidgens. 

“What-” Tom began, his voice sounding shaky, “What the hell is she doing?” 

Paul wished he could read lips in that moment as Hidgens responded to whatever Emma was saying in a way that made her shout something back at him. For a while, they appeared to exchange some frantic looking words, that made Paul’s stomach drop with every word Emma appeared to be saying to the old man, until her face broke out into a disbelieving grin, her eyes sparkling with something that appeared to be...mockery?

“Is she…” Rodney began, his voice, “Is she _taunting_ him?” 

Paul couldn’t even manage a nod as Emma continued to laugh, one frightening thought blaring in his mind. 

_Emma, what are you planning?_

\---

The cool forest floor scraped against Emma’s face as she was thrown back again, falling less than gracefully, her helmet had loosened considerably with the force. 

Much like he’d done while they were still in the lab, Hidgens had taken to throwing them about as if they were nothing...especially since Xander had been the fucking genius that launched himself at the Being from the Black and White. 

After he’d thrown himself at Hidgens, the old man had used his ability to throw all three of them back against the trees, which had made pain erupt in her back. Xander, however, in a chain of events that had seemed so unlike himself, had actually engaged in a decent fight with Hidgens, making him almost drop the knife, up until the point that Hidgens lashed out again with his tendrils of black smoke that sent Xander careening into the plant life nearby. Hidgens had grabbed the knife again and went back to work, merely playing with them like they were dolls of some weird sort with his abilities, focusing only on his carving, which looked nearly completed. 

All she could focus on was Tim. 

The pain didn’t matter as long as she could get him back home to his father. 

Since they’d made it into the woods, she’d been unable to think about anything else other than ensuring Hidgens didn’t kill them and getting Tim away from the tree that he was bound to. 

Another burst of energy erupted through the clearing, dragging her along the ground to the base of another tree. She kept herself as flat as she could to the ground as leaves and glass exploded around her. She could vaguely hear Xander yell something as he too, was thrown back, John and him struggling to get the knife away from Hidgens. 

If the glass was the same thing that had encapsulated Lex, then it couldn’t be broken by anything but that knife. The knife that Hidgens was still carving patterns into the tree, using his abilities without even having to look back at her and the others. 

Instead of doing what John and Xander were still focused on doing, she looked up and searched for Tim, crawling towards him.

“A-Aunt Emma,” he whimpered as he saw her. She pulled herself upwards and crawled closer, pulling herself to her feet, cupping his face as she looked at him. 

Tears poured down his face faster, “Y-You came for m-me...”

“Of course, I did, bud,” she whispered, working fast to inspect his face and make sure he had no injuries,“It’s gonna be okay, alright? I promis-”

Another burst of energy flung her into him, knocking her off her balance and pushing him closer against the tree with a small scream. Small particles of what she was certain was glass bounced off of her back and rained to the ground, and for a moment she was grateful that she’d been knocked in front of him, protecting him from the shower of glass that ran down around them. She wagered a glance back and saw John, scrambling for his gun, shouting something unintelligible to Xander, who was doing the same. 

God, she hoped Paul couldn’t see this. 

His voice had helped get them far enough into the forest that they’d managed to get to Hidgens, but when the comms cut out, he’d disappeared from them, leaving them unaware of what they needed to do. Everything was going so fast she could barely understand what was happening. 

All she had was the objective, which was to get the knife away from Hidgens. 

She saw that Xander and John both had their weapons, but were still being pushed against trees with the force of Hidgens’ power. Why the old man hadn’t used the same trick he’d used to wipe out the other two operatives, whose names she hadn’t bothered to learn, was beyond her. 

She looked down and saw that she still had her smaller glock that she’d been fashioned with. She was still shielding Tim from the flying debris, but she knew that they wouldn’t get anything done if they didn’t get the knife away from him. 

All she had was a gun, her brain, an objective, and a plan beginning to form in her mind. 

“Hidgens!” she screamed, trying to get his attention, “Stop this!! This isn’t the way!” 

She ignored Tim’s pleading with her to stop talking with the monster and moved forward, still shielding Tim from the objects caught in the wind, but making the distance between her and the old man dwindle, determined to hold her ground. 

“Oh, but it is, Emma dear,” he cast a playful look that made her skin crawl over his shoulder as he continued to work, “This is destiny…”

“Destiny!?!” she screamed incredulously, “That’s bullshit!!” 

John cast a worried look at her that seemed to scream ‘what the hell are you doing?’, she ignored this and went on. 

“Hidgens, why does world domination have to be 

“This is the new world, Emma,” Hidgens sang out without looking at her, “This is a world of new gods and new monsters...and I…Mask-”

“Your name is Mask?” she laughed, causing him to stop carving and turn to her, with an eyebrow raised. 

“Yes,” he murmured, sounding vaguely offended, “What’s wrong with it?” 

She continued to laugh, nervous energy releasing itself in the worst possible way. 

“Emma,” Xander called from his place on the ground, a fresh wound bleeding on his forehead, “ _What are you doing?!?_ ”

“Like-” she began, trying to keep her laughter as convincing as possible, as fear gripped her heart, “Like the Jim Carrey movie?” 

She could hear Tim fearfully giggle behind her as Hidgens face contorted into an insolent look of indignance. If she played her cards right...she could distract him long enough for John and Xander to…

_BANG! BANG!_

Evidently, they got the idea. 

Bullet holes ripped through Hidgens’ abdomen as he turned to look at where John and Xander were holding their guns aloft, firing at him with professional accuracy. 

Seeing her chance, she withdrew her gun and fired at his hand, which was turned away from her. She held the gun in her hand as tightly as she could getting it into position as the bullets from Xander and John’s guns continued to merely peeve Hidgens as he prepared to push them back with their power again. 

If she played her cards right, she would succeed. All she needed was to make sure that she kept herself calm and didn’t fuck this up. 

She was done fucking things up. 

She would make sure that Tim got home to his father. 

She would make sure that Tom would hold his son again. 

She would make sure that she and Paul had the life they’d wanted for so long. 

She took aim and focused, inhaling and exhaling sharply. 

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

She fired quickly, managing to hit him several times in the hand. Rather than phasing him or harming him, her true aim was to knock the knife free from his hand, which didn’t happen. 

Hidgens turned to face her, a cruel smile on his face. Fear gripped her heart as she stalked toward her, making Tim cry out in fear. With a wave of his hand he knocked Emma off of her feet, sending her falling painfully into the ground as he leered over her. 

“It’s cute, really, Emma,” he murmured, smiling cruelly down at her, “That you thought this would do anything...” 

“Please,” she crawled backward as he came forward, holding the knife like he intended to stab her with it, “Hidgens...you don’t need to-”

_BANG!_

She grinned as the knife went flying out of Hidgens had when an expert shot from Xander’s gun hit it perfectly. The knife flew a few feet away from her, causing her to dive for it. 

In a spur of movement, she’d picked the knife up in her hands and scrambled to move towards where Tim remained, tears of fear streaming down his face. Immediately, her hands flew like a magnet to the surface of the grey glass, causing it to shatter instantly. 

Tim fell forward and she threw the knife aside, collecting her shaking nephew in her arms. 

“Get him out of here!” John shouted, his voice sounding urgent as he continued to fire rounds off at Hidgens, who scrambled for the knife, returning quickly to the tree, knocking Emma and Tim to the ground again in hasty movement. She watched as Hidgens quickly and angrily carved more angry lines into the tree, screaming something unintelligible. Almost instantly, the carving began to glow a dark green that made Emma’s stomach drop. All of her instincts were screaming at her to get as far away from him as she could.

John and Xander began to run for the trees, moving quickly for the vehicle that they’d come, gesturing for her to follow. Thinking quickly, Emma grabbed Tim and moved them as quickly as they could towards the vehicle.

They’d barely made it halfway back to their vehicle when a powerful burst of energy erupted throughout the woods with a terrifying boom of energy that reverberated through her skull, sending all four of them flying as trees collapsed all around them. Her sensor was screaming at her as she knew that Hidgens had succeeded. 

“TIM!” she screamed as the little boy went flying into a nearby tree with a horrified scream. Almost instantly, another scream of pain ripped itself from her nephew’s throat, making her stomach drop and her heart shatter. 

She scrambled to her feet, running for where Tim had fallen, only to look over her shoulder to see something terrifying and white emerge from Hidgens’ portal. She didn’t care about what he was doing as she gathered her nephew in her arms. 

“Tim-” she whispered as she turned him over in her arms so she could see his face, “Tim, buddy…”

What she saw made her stomach drop. 

One of his eyes was squeezed shut, and covered in blood. His good eye was pouring with tears as he shook, murmuring and whimpering in her arms. There was so much blood, matting down his hair as she tried to stanch it with her hands, making him whimper and cry out. 

Each cry he released broke her heart. She just hugged him closer, whispering things to him. Promises that she would get them out of there. Promises that everything would be okay. Promises that she didn’t know she could keep. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked for John and Xander, finding them pulling themselves up and moving close to them. 

John ran beside her and quickly dragged something out of his pack, “What happened?!” 

“It’s his eye!” she all but screamed looking back at where Hidgens appeared to be screaming at a figure she couldn’t quite make out, “He needs a doctor!” 

“Em…” Tim whimpered, “Emma it hurts…” 

“I know buddy, I know…” Emma soothed, running a hand through his hair as he shook in her arms. John produced a small black cloth from his pouch and handed it to Emma, who applied it gently to Tim’s eye, trying to stop the bleeding, making Tim writhe slightly in pain.

Behind them, Xander joined her, his eyes wide and frantic, “He opened the portal! The vehicles been overturned, we need to find another way back!”

She clutched Tim to her chest, “We have to run!”

“- _Come in! This is mission control! John! Emma! Come in! This is-”_

“Paul!” she screamed, she could have cried with how relieved she was to hear his voice. 

“ _Em!”_ he responded, nervous energy radiating through his previously calm voice, “ _You're okay? You’re okay! Okay, you need to find another route, we’ve seen the whole thing through Xander’s camera here, but we need to get you another way out.”_

“Tim needs a doctor, Paul,” she responded, “His eye-” 

“ _I know Em, just let me find you another way_ !” he murmured, she could hear him mutter a few frantic ‘okay’s under his breath, “ _We’re looking for another way out, just keep moving and get as far away as you possibly can!”_

She was thinking. Thinking faster than she ever thought she possibly could. They were trapped in the Witchwoods, Tim needed a doctor, Hidgens had succeeded in opening a portal...what were they doing?

John picked up the shivering, crying Tim from her arms and held him closer as they began to run through the woods trying to get as far away from whatever Hidgens had done with the portal. As they ran, dodging the foliage and fallen trees, she began to think. 

They were in the Witchwoods. They’d entered from the cemetery, which was miles away from where they were now, they’d never make it in time. If she remembered correctly, the Witchwoods backed up to large scale luxurious...estates…

Hidgens’ estate!

“Paul, “ she shouted into her mic, “Paul, how far is Hidgens’ estate from here?!” 

_“Hidgens’ house?”_ he responded, pausing for a moment, “ _It’s less than a mile from your current location, if you hurry you can make it!”_

“We can access the PEIP base through Hidgens’ tunnel!” she shouted at the others. 

“ _You’re on the right track!”_ Paul shouted, “ _Just run in the same direction, you’re on the right track!”_

She nodded at John, who was holding Tim close, he gave her an affirming nod as a shriek reverberated throughout the forest sounding too much like a death cry. She could hear Hidgens screaming something she couldn’t quite understand. 

As they continued to bolt throughout the woods, Paul’s voice entered her thoughts, suddenly returning a great deal of focus to her body as she dodged all of the shrubs and trees. Outrunning the apocalypse. 

“ _Run, Emma,”_ Paul’s voice was calm again, echoing in her ears and fueling her movement like gasoline, ” _Don’t look back, just run.”_

\---

As she stepped through the blaringly white window, she could feel the exhilaration of new life fill her veins. The knowledge of her success flew through her every cell, making her laugh and grin as she was met by the light of the new world. The world that was going to become hers. 

As her ruby red eyes adjusted to the light, she found herself in the same forest she’d once loved to traverse before her banishment. The silver-painted bark was welcoming to her as she stepped out of the portal. 

She could only smile as she peered down at the furious face of Mask, still in the flesh of the puny human scientist they’d killed decades before. Of course, he’d evolved partially, with the black tentacles and veins moving and dancing beneath his skin, but other than that, he still appeared as though he were a frail human man. 

His face was a bright shade of scarlet as he stood before her. 

“Y-Y…” he stammered, too furious to find the right words, “ _You!!”_

She smiled at him, “Me.”

His face grew in fury as he stared her down, small in comparison to her massive form. 

She inhaled and exhaled sharply, taking in the fresh air that human beings needed to breathe. The chill of the air was unsettlingly beautiful to her as she took in the rest of the people, who were now scrambling away. She’d let John, Emma, Xander, and the little boy go...for now...she had no need for them as of yet. 

Mask seemed to grow in size, rising up to her height in a pillar of black smoke, the tentacles beneath his skin dancing as his fury grew. 

“You can’t be here,” he hissed, his face contorting in anger, “ _YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE!!!”_

His hissing turned to shrieking as the black and grey smoke began to morph into angry tentacles that waved around him, threateningly. 

She merely laughed at his impudence, which only made him all the more furious. 

“ _It’s not your turn!!”_ he shrieked, like a child who’d just watched his favorite toy be taken away from him, “ _YOU- YOU CHEATED!!!! CHEATER!!!”_

She laughed again as his power swirled around him like a hurricane, so petulant and angry in such an insufficient way. He could never amount to the power of the real Lords in Black. He could never accomplish what she and her siblings could. 

“All these years,” she crooned, looking down at him with as much condescension she could manage, “All these years, and you still remained with the puny mortal flesh of a human?”

He said nothing as one of his dark tentacles snapped through trees that surrounded him, attempting to warn her of his power. Power he assumed he had, but never truly did. 

She rolled all of her eyes at him. At how futile his attempts to intimidate her were. Deep down, he had to know that he’d lost. There was no denying how idiotic it was to deny how powerful she was, and how powerless he was in comparison to all the rest. He had to know. 

As she stared down into the eyes of the fourth pauper, the self-proclaimed seventh Being of the Black and White, she could only feel vindictive. 

“That’s quite enough Mask, don’t you agree?” she crooned, looking down at the furious face in front of her. 

“ _You- You have no idea who you’re dealing with!!”_ He screamed at her, _“You have no idea whose power-”_

“Silence,” she commanded him, not even having to raise her voices for it to be effective “I’ve had enough of you and your siblings....what you tried to steal from my family…” 

“ _YOU STOLE MY TURN!!!”_ he screamed at her, “ _YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING!!!!!”_

“Just…” she began with a small smile, “Begone...the whole lot of you…” 

She waved her hand in a lackadaisical gesture, with a smile across her face. 

Almost instantly, the figure of Mask shrank to the ground and began to writhe against the ground, screaming in agony. 

Her smile grew as his figure began to smoke and disintegrate, disappearing into nothingness as he continued to shriek. From the Black and White, she could hear his screams of pain and death throes joined by the screams of Void, Drown, and Hush, all of them suffering the same fate. Their death rattles, brought a smile to her lips as their silver blood spilled from the portal and surrounded her feet, soaking into the torn-up sweater that Mask still wore, leaving him as the last one left alive. 

She grinned bigger, showing her sharp teeth as she walked around his writhing figure, picking up the knife from where the careless Mask had dropped it in her scramble to get away from the portal that had been activated. As she inspected it’s cool black blade, she recognized the language that was written down its length. 

_From shadows we emerge, and to shadow we’ll return_

She’d found it. 

After centuries of separation, endless years of waiting and plotting this return, she finally had what she wanted. 

She looked down at Mask, all that remained of him was a silent skeletal figure of a race lost to the universe, slowly dissolving into a pool of silver blood which reinvigorated her as the screaming stopped and it seeped into her skin through her bare feet. 

In this world, she felt powerful.

Here she held fate in her hands. 

Here, she was a being of ultimate power. 

Mask might have thought it was his turn, but she’d claimed it for herself. And she would win. 

She extended the blade outward, the energies of the Witchwoods, and the remnants of the pauper’s blood filling her with a new form of life she could never have imagined for herself. It was delicious, knowing how she was accomplishing all that she’d been wanting for so long. 

Holding the knife aloft, she gently began to wave it around as if it were what human beings called a magic wand, slicing patterns into the mid air...using it appropriately where Hidgens had required a source of energy to do it. The pattern was similar to the webs she’d spun whilst planning for this, intricate and delicate, but also betraying great danger. 

Behind her, two figures moved out of the still-open portal. 

“Webbsy?” Her brother, Wiggly asked, elation in his annoyingly child-like voice, “What sort of part do we have heeeeerreeeeeee???” 

“ _I must admit,”_ Apatha, once known by the name of Pokotho, whispered in her usual sing-song tone, “ _I knew it was too good to be true when we stumbled across an open portal in the Black and White...but fresh air?!?”_ she inhaled deeply, as if savoring the crisp essence of Hatchetfield, “ _I forgot how much I love this world..”_

“It will soon be better, brother and sister,” Webby said as she completed slicing her pattern into the air, glowing like the remnants of a sparkler on that American holiday in the dead of night, “Once we’re all together again.”

“Oooooooohhhh,” Wiggly giggled under his breath, sounding all the more excited, bouncing closer to Webby as he peered at what she was doing, much like he’d done when they were mere newborn beings of chaos, “And what has my dear, sweet….webbsy-webs have going on heeeeere?”

“ _You’re drawing up a severance portal,”_ Apatha sang out in excitement, “ _Webby you can’t be…”_

 _“_ I am.” Webby affirmed with a bigger smile growing across her face as the pattern began to glow brighter, shades of green and gold melding into it as it shone, the energy rippling through her, filling her with energy and power. 

Wiggly and Apatha moved closer, leaning in to watch as the portal’s pattern began to break away, ripping away to reveal a window of oblivion, swirls of darkness and green molding together in a pattern that sickened Webby. She was staring into a window that had imprisoned three of her baby brothers for centuries, severing them from their true family for too long.

But that didn’t matter now. 

They’d all be together soon enough. 

“Nibblenephim,” she called out, her voice filled with an excitement she hadn’t felt in centuries as she called his name, “Bliklotep, T’noy Karaxis!!! We’re waiting for you!!!”

“ _Come back to us, brothers!!_ ” Apatha sang into the void, almost vibrating with as much excitement as Webby as she watched the energy circulate, “ _Come home!!”_

Wiggly only giggled louder, smiling brighter than before as his tentacles slipped in and out of his mouth betraying how happy and wonderful it was for them to be experiencing this all together. They’d all be together soon, and all three of them could hardly wait. 

Like a child on the Earthly holiday, Christmas, they all stood there, peeking into the window to watch as their siblings began to emerge, bursts of color and life streaming into the world, swirling around them in spirals of light, before settling in a triangle around Webby, Apatha, and Wiggly. 

Once the humming of the energy and the shining of the light stopped, the portal faded, leaving behind newly materialized figures standing around them and filling Webby to the brim with jubilation. 

The first of the three normally appeared to humans in the form of a cyclopean horror, with only one yellow eye that stared into their souls. To his siblings however, Bliklotep, also known as Blinky, appeared as though he were the figure of an alien, with one singular, albeit, much smaller eye at the center of his forehead, the shades of lemon yellow and violet molding together in a way that made it seem less of an eye and more of a mosaic on his face. His face was contorted in a knowing smile, which made his lilac skin appear flushed as his dark purple hair was neatly combed to the side. He straightened his vest, which resembled what humans knew as a carnival worker as he adjusted to their new home.

The second wore a bright smile that seemed to shrink his eyes and cover his whole face, which wasn’t much different from how he appeared to human beings. He wore a simple, bubblegum pink ensemble which was neatly tailored to his frame, making him appear as though he were a businessman from this world. Although the years had been unkind to him, they certainly hadn’t changed Nibblenephim’s perfect smile, which filled Webby’s heart with so much joy she felt she might melt. His hair fell to his back in an elegant braid, making him appear elven, almost as his ears went in an upturned point. As he opened his yellow and pink eyes, his grin grew wider, which was something that had always surprised Webby, even as they’d been growing up. Still, she was happy she could see that smile again. 

The final was a boy who’d appeared to human beings as though he were a filthy goat with dead eyes. Much like Wiggly, his laugh was infectious to Webby, and his distorted buck teeth only added to his charm in her eyes. He was younger than the rest of them, and wore something that resembled yellow footie pajamas that human children adored, his eyes shone against his lemon-yellow skin, as they held an entrancing azure tint to them that captured everyone's attention. On the sides of his head, poking out of his tousled yellow hair, were the amber-colored points that were indicative of horns forming, which would inevitably grow bigger as he got older. In his hands, he held the same box he’d always been attached to since he’d existed. He clutched onto it in the same ways that human children were attached to a blanket or a teddy bear. And although he was the youngest, he held one of the most terrifying forms of power that the world would ever see.

And Webby, for one, was extremely excited for the world to see it. 

As she looked at the group, she saw that all five of her siblings had been returned to her. 

“W-Webby?” Tinky began, his voice cracking as he rubbed at his bright blue eyes, taking in the forest that surrounded them. 

She could have melted at the sound of her little brother’s voice. The mere sight of all five of them together again brought her more joy than she could bear. All of them seemed too shocked to have a proper reunion, all too shocked to move forward. 

It was Apatha who opened her arms to everyone, which all of them rushed forward, collapsing into one another in a desperate hug that had been centuries in the making. 

“Where-” Blinky began, his single eye darting around the forest, “Where are we…?”

She smiled at the question as she revelled in the feeling of all five of her younger siblings in her arms again. 

She knew it was a new day for her. 

She was happy...

“Welcome home…” she whispered, clutching her brothers and sister closer to her.

And she had won. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim, sweetie, I'm so sorry  
> (I'm also so sorry that this ended up being longer than I planned!!!!!)
> 
> But hey, at least Hidgens is dead!!! (Ding dong the bitch is dead)
> 
> In conclusion, they're all screwed.  
> Technically there's only one chapter left to go because I'm including an authors PSA about the second part in the last section so...AHHHHHHH  
> IM SO EXCITED YOU GUYS
> 
> Please leave comments and or kudos if you wish to rant about how weird my word vomit is!!! I really appreciate you guys all the same!!!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!! This week has been a lot and writing this has been a real escape for me, so knowing that you guys like this means a lot! 
> 
> Please remember to be kind to yourselves and others and Happy Black Friday (Dont get a Wiggly and don't fucking die)
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	45. If Heaven and Hell Decide that they Both are Satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to decide who will be saved.  
> Who do they trust?  
> Who do they betray?  
> Will they live to see tomorrow or die another day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title for this comes from the song ’I Will Follow You Into the Dark’ by Death Cab for Cutie

Reset No. 6

Date: August 27th, 2018

End Days

Of all the things that would happen on a Monday morning, Bill Woodward was fairly certain this wasn’t it. 

He couldn’t make sense of the loud blaring sirens and emergency broadcasts that were playing loudly in Charlotte’s tiny Honda, which the few employees that remained at CCRP technical had piled into, which meant that he, Charlotte, Melissa, and Silvia from the top floor were crammed on top of one another. Silvia was driving as Charlotte anxiously tried to get a hold of her husband Sam, who ignored her as per usual.

Ted had gone ahead and left the second the emergency broadcasts had hit, seeing it as an excuse to get out of work rather than an actual emergency. With a loud and boisterous ‘see ya, fuckers!’ Ted had left them all to decide what to do, which was evacuate together. They had no idea where Mr. Davidson had gone, so all they had were the only four people who’d been decent enough to actually show up to work on time, even in a building as big as CCRP. 

He typed anxiously at his phone, messaging Alice frantically as he waited for updates as to whether or not she and Deb had made it to the evacuation point. 

Alice, having missed her bus to Clivesdale that morning, had decided to spend the whole day with her girlfriend, who regularly skipped class (much to Bill’s chagrin). Never before had he been so glad that his daughter was with a girl who owned a car and ignored common speed regulations on Hatchetfield roads because according to Alice’s texts they were well on their way to the cliffside evacuation points well before Bill and the rest of his coworkers were. 

God, this month was so weird. 

First, Alice’s mom gets a promotion and brings new evidence to have their almost-adult daughter in her custody full-time, which Bill had managed to avoid. 

Then, Ted tried to call Bill his best friend, and set Bill up with someone on the top floor, just so _he_ could sleep with the redheaded Silvia (whom, Bill couldn’t deny was attractive). Thankfully, Ted’s attempts to get laid had failed and earned him a slap to the face.

Then, Alice was talking about moving in with Deb. 

And _then,_ suddenly, he remembered someone he was fairly certain hadn’t existed beforehand. 

One minute, he didn’t remember the fact that he had a best friend who occupied the cubicle right next door to his, and the next, he suddenly had _years_ worth of memories of a guy named Paul, who’d been named Alice’s godfather long before she was born. Paul, who’d been his best friend since getting out of college. 

How had he forgotten someone who’d meant so much to his family? Paul had been the friend to open his apartment to Bill when he was kicked out by his ex-wife. Paul had been named Alice’s godfather the moment that Bill’s ex had found out she was pregnant. Hell, Paul and Emma had come over for dinner so many times before Paul had supposedly disappeared. How he’d forgotten all of that was beyond him. 

He’d tried to get into contact with Paul’s girlfriend, the feisty brunette barista, Emma, who Alice liked very much. He’d tried to get an explanation from her as to where Paul was, and she responded with a message that only told Bill that he was okay and alive, which somehow didn’t appease him. Where his coworker and best friend had been all this time was astounding. The fact that Bill (and everyone else who’d known Paul) possessed those memories was indicative that Paul was certainly not a figment of his imagination. Still, the knowledge that he was at the very least alive and well was enough for Bill to settle on. 

Now, they were probably facing a nuclear holocaust or something. 

“Relax, Charlotte,” Melissa soothed their tearful coworker, “I’m sure Sam’s fine.” 

“Yeah…” the timid woman muttered to herself, taking a swig from a small flask, “I’m sure he’s fine...he’ll be there already... He’s okay.” 

“What do you suppose this is all about?” Silvia asked from her place in the front seat, “I mean, this is some serious business if they’re evacuating us to the restricted Cliffside Caves.”

“You don’t think it’s World War Three?” Charlotte whimpered, tears pouring from her big blue eyes, “T-that this is the end of the world?” 

Silvia chuckled lightly and shook her head, “I’m sure it’s not as serious as that, sweetie...I mean...it’s probably just a bad storm or somethin’ on the way.” 

The day was indeed overcast, but there were no dark clouds that indicated that a bad storm was, in any form or fashion, making its way over to their small town. 

Bill knew this was in no way a joke.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was easily paranoid. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was likely scared of his own shadow. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had good intuition. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that unlike at least ninety-eight percent of Hatchetfield’s population, he had common sense. Regardless, Bill Woodward was always able to tell when something bad was about to happen, and this was no exception. 

As Silvia drove along the beachside road, he could see the vast expanse of the Witchwoods, extending over the distance. Though their island was relatively small, the Witchwoods were a landmark that any Hatchetfield citizen could see from any spot in the town. As he observed the treeline, he took note of some odd-looking flashes coming from the residential neighborhoods on the outskirts of the greater city area. He decided to ignore these as Silvia came to a small line of cars lined up, leading up to the caves. A woman in a uniform was directing individual cars into the tunnels, with militaristic efficiency. 

Since there were so few cars, they were quickly located towards the mouth of the cave where the same woman in uniform came to the window. She had a severe-looking face, with auburn curls similar to Charlotte’s as she stared at the passengers of the car.

“How many passengers are in this car?” She asked, keeping her tone even and strict. 

Silvia straightened, “There are four of us in here.” 

“Names and ages?” the woman responded, pulling out an iPad and setting it out in front of her.

“Silvia Llewellyn, age thirty-eight,” Silvia began before turning to Charlotte who flinched. 

“Oh….oh um...me?” Charlotte stammered, wiping away at her tears with one hand. 

The older military woman nodded, “Yes, you, ma’am.”

“Charlotte D-Dave-Davies,” she stammered, “and- I’m….I’m thirty-four.”

The military woman turned to Melissa who answered quickly, “Melissa Montgomery, age twenty-seven.”

Bill perked up when the woman turned to him, “Bill Woodward, age forty-three...was there an Alice Woodward, age seventeen... here before us?”

The woman didn’t respond to his question, which stirred a frantic sort of anger in his gut, “Drive ahead through the caves, and when you come to something that looks like a parking lot, park and goes to the desks, some of my operatives will lead you to your holding station and reunite you with any loved ones.” 

Dutifully, Silvia nodded and hit the accelerator, driving them through the darkness of the caves. As if on cue, his phone began to ring and the icon for Alice popped up. He answered it. 

“Alice? Alice sweetie, are you okay?” he asked, his voice frantic as he shouted over Melissa and Charlotte’s nervous chatter. 

“ _Dad?”_ Her voice sounded frantic, “ _Dad, are you okay?!”_

“I asked you first, sweetie,” he laughed nervously. 

“ _Oh...Oh!”_ She exclaimed, her voice sounding shaky, almost like she couldn’t get a correct handle on different words, “ _Oh yeah, I’m fine! Deb and I made it to this military bunker...and they wanted to take away our phones and I just...I needed to know where you were!”_

“Alice, sweetie,” he soothed, “Alice, just go with the military people, we already are in the caves...we’ll be there soon, don’t worry...okay? I’ll be there in a second.” 

“ _Dad…”_ Alice’s voice broke over the phone, “ _Dad, I’m scared…”_

“Sweetheart….” a lump formed in Bills throat as he listened to the wavering voice of his daughter, “Alice, sweetie, I’ll be there soon...in the meantime...stay with- I can’t believe I’m about to say this- but stay with Deb until I get there...okay?” 

“ _Okay,”_ Alice muttered, “ _I love you, Dad”_

“I love you too, Alice….” Bill whispered, “Just wait for me, okay?” 

“ _Okay.”_

With that, the call ended and Bill looked up. 

“Everything okay, Billy?” Silvia asked, eyeing him through the rearview mirror, sympathy in her gaze. 

“Yeah…” he muttered, “It’s just my daughter...she’s safe, but scared…”

“Poor thing,” Silvia mused, “We’re almost there, though...you’ll be with her soon enough.” 

“Yeah,” Bill murmured, peering out the window to look at the caves which seemed to go on forever. The taillights of the car in front of them stared back at them like the predatory eyes of a cat for what felt like many miles before the lights of what looked almost like a parking garage greeted them. 

Silvia quickly found a spot and parked the car, helping Charlotte and Melissa out of the car. On the other end of the concrete structure, they saw a line of a few soldiers standing at the door ushering the sporadic groups of people into the building. 

Like a true mother hen, Silvia began to usher their group towards the men in black who told them to keep moving until they came to a desk, at which a woman was sitting, clipboard in front of her. 

“Bill Woodward, Silvia Llewellyn, Melissa Montgomery, and Charlotte Davies?” she asked, “Ages 43, 38, 27, and 34 respectively?” 

“Yes that’s right,” Silvia nodded. 

The woman removed a big tub from underneath the desk and held it ou. Inside, Bill could see various cellular devices all stacked neatly, “You are now under the protection of the United States Military, special unit PEIP, please relinquish your cellular devices and follow the indicated yellow lines to your holding location where you can be reunited with any family members and loved ones until we can fit you and your loved ones with proper housing and roles.” 

“Housing and roles?” Melissa asked, “What do you mean?” 

The woman smiled, clearly prepared to avoid the actual question, “Here at PEIP, we have the accommodations necessary until the threat is neutralized. Please follow instructions and all will be fine.” 

Reluctantly, Bill held out his phone and placed it in the large plastic tub, mimicked almost instantly by Silvia, Charlotte, and Melissa. The woman smiled slightly and held out her hand indicating that they go into the hallway behind her. 

As instructed, they followed the bright highlighter-colored line until they came to a large warehouse-like structure with blindingly white walls and several chairs lined up. The room probably held about fifty people already, which made it easy for him to spot the familiar light pink sweater. 

“Alice!” he shouted, making the girl turn her head and a smile grow across her face. 

“Dad!” she shouted, running into his arms and burying her face in his neck, “You made it!”

He pressed a kiss to her curly hair, “Of course I did. It’s gonna be okay, baby...okay?” 

“Okay…” she whispered, looking up at him, her brown eyes filled with tears. 

Behind her, the flannel and beanie-clad teenager he recognized as his daughter’s girlfriend stalked up behind them, standing somewhat awkwardly. Bill, unable to think of any passive-aggressive remarks to make to the girl, nodded in thanks. 

“Thank you for getting her here,” he whispered, receiving only a small nod in response from the girl. He leaned back and cupped his daughter’s face, “So...you’re okay? You’re not hurt?” 

His daughter sniffled and shook her head, “Do you know what’s going on?” 

“I don’t know honey, I don’t…” he murmured, pulling his shaking daughter closer to him, “But it’s gonna be okay...okay?” 

She hummed in response. 

For a moment he felt like everything was going to be okay until the tender moment was interrupted by the loud and garish voice of his annoying asshole coworker. 

“ _Bill!!”_ from the opposite side of the room, his coworker, Ted Spankoffski stalked over to them, “You made it...this place is legit, huh?” 

“I...guess…” he muttered, not caring to make conversation with the jerk from his workplace, instead deciding to focus on his daughter. 

“I mean...when that broadcast started, I thought this was some kind of convoluted fuckin’ prank and now-” Ted clapped him on the back, “I guess we’re really facin’ the end of the world, huh?” 

At the words ‘end of the world’, Bill could feel his daughter stiffen up in his arms. He cast a glare at Ted, warning him to back off, “Please go bother someone else, right now…” 

Ted snorted, a mischievous grin crossing his disgusting face making his mustache turn up slightly, “Fine...I guess Charlotte needs a little comfort right now...right?” 

Bill didn’t answer, only praying internally that the man would go away.

“Geez, alright,” Ted snorted, casting a lackadaisical glance across the assortment of evacuated people, “I get the message, I’m only tryin’ to- PAUL?”

His eyes widened crazily, making Bill look up as the name finally registered in his mind.

Bill followed Ted’s gaze to the space across the room, where a familiar figure of a man clad in a white shirt and tie, his brown hair, which was usually neatly combed off to the side, looked messy. His blue eyes bulged as he scanned the room, practically running for the exit on the other side of the room. At the sound of the name, Alice’s head snapped up and her brown eyes widened. 

“ _Uncle Paul!”_ she practically screamed, making the man stop in his tracks and turn towards him, his eyes widening. 

Alice ran for him, almost tackling him in an overwhelming hug that the man quickly returned, his eyes too wide from the shock. 

Bill ran after his daughter, unable to process that this was indeed the man that he’d only regained memories of in the past month. Ted followed them, almost stomping across the room. 

“Alice?” Paul murmured, tears filling his eyes, “Bill?”

He pulled back to look at his goddaughter, almost like he couldn’t comprehend the fact that she was there. His eyes trailed up slowly until they met Bill’s, a smile crossing his face, “Oh thank God, you guys are safe.” 

Bill quickly moved forward, enveloping his daughter and his best friend in a hug. Smiling at the fact that Paul was, in fact, alive and safe. 

“Paul,” Ted exclaimed, his voice filled with vague taunting, “Where the _fuck_ have you been?” 

Paul’s face fell as he broke from the hug, “Ted, you’re here…” 

“Well, don’t sound so shocked, Matthews,” Ted snorted, “But seriously...where the hell have you been all this time? Do you work with the military? Are you like a spy or something…” 

“No...” Paul cut him off, turning his far more expressive gaze to Bill and Alice “I promise I’ll explain everything later, but I’ve got somewhere I need to be...I promise you, I’ll give you all the answers you want, but right now you need to trust these people and do as they say...”

“Wait, wait, Paul,” Bill began, “What do you mean...what’s happening?” 

“I wish I could tell you everything. Bill,” Paul muttered, his eyes nervously darting around the room, “But right now everything is so complicated... all that matters is that you guys are safe...so just trust these people and I promise I will explain everything, just stay here…” 

“Paul,” Ted snorted, his eyes incredulous, “You’re seriously just gonna leave us hanging?” 

“Yes,” Paul responded bluntly, “But I promise I will give you as much information as you need later, but I’m needed right now, okay? Just stay together and stay safe…” 

With one nervous but somewhat reassuring glance, Paul turned and ran for the exit, the guards recognizing and allowing him through. Ted made an incredulous noise. 

“What the fuck do you think that’s about?” he asked nobody in particular. Bill just shrugged, wrapping an arm around his shaken daughter. 

Whatever was happening, Bill knew that today would be the day that everything would change. 

\---

John wrapped an arm around the shivering and crying Houston kid, who was clutching desperately onto John’s shirt, terrified of letting go. Tim’s blood was soaking through John’s shirt as the wound on his damaged eye was still bleeding heavily. Behind them, Emma and Xander kept up a steady pace, even as they made their way out of the woods. 

Moments before, Paul had gotten off the comms, saying he was going to rally a doctor and some assistance to help with Tim and any injuries the team might have sustained, leaving Callum Rodney as their primary means of direction.

It was lucky that Emma had already been to the professor’s home several times before their misfortunes began, as they continued to move forward in pursuit of a safe return to PEIP. Emma had shouted something over the mics about him having a greenhouse that they could easily access from the back and break into the manor with little to no trouble at all. John had no time to worry about alarms or anything, especially since he figured that making their way through Hidgens’ home would be like making their way through a labyrinth.

Against the skin of his neck, he could feel the small boy’s tears leak through the material of his sweater, making him hold the boy closer and mutter a few assurances to him. 

“It’s okay son,” he whispered, “Mackie’s got you.”

“Ma-Mackie,” Tim whispered, “I’m scared…” 

“I know, son, I know…” he muttered in between deep breaths, “But it's okay, we’ll get you back to your dad soon enough, okay?” 

The boy cried out as they almost tripped over a log, the weight of Tim in his arms making his arms hurt slightly. 

Xander patted John on the back when John came to a brief stop, “I’ll take him…you follow Emma to the manor house and see about us getting in.” 

Quickly but gently, John transferred the shaking Tim out of his grasp and passed him into Xander’s open arms. The boy was small enough for them to make it quick and efficient without having to stop for long. Immediately, Tim wrapped his arms around Xander’s neck and leaned into his touch, crying softly. 

The sight melted John’s heart a bit. Before they’d been married, both John and Xander had decided that the work that they'd selected for themselves was too dangerous to have children. To be honest, neither of them knew much about fatherhood, since Xander’s had left when he was a boy and John’s had mostly run their household in the ways one would manage an army. It was because of this, they didn't feel like either of them would be suited for parenthood. That didn't change the fact that Xander was extremely good with children. He was sensitive and patient in all the ways that John never was and connected with them in a way that made children feel more at ease. Watching Xander interact with Hannah Foster and Tim was a testament to that.

Emma ran ahead of them dodging the occasional tree ranch as the harrowing appearance of a wall came into view.

“It's just up ahead!” she called, running ahead through the shrubs and plants until she came to what appeared to be a pane of dark glass belonging to a large-scale greenhouse. As John and Xander trailed up behind her, she kicked at the glass ferociously, forming a large crack to form. 

“Tim, cover your ears, ” she instructed as she withdrew her Glock from her holster. She quickly checked the clip and found that there were still bullets left in the magazine. Once she’d made sure that Tim had covered his ears, she fired off a few rounds into the pane, causing it to shatter instantly. Xander and John turned away as she kicked the remaining shards of glass out of the way, shielding the still crying Tim from the glass. Emma then turned to Xander and took Tim gently from his arms, stepping through the glass opening and into the greenhouse. 

It was obvious that the greenhouse hadn’t been taken care of in a long time as several plants and shrubs had either died off or overgrown. Still, it was a welcome change from the massive plants and obstacles of the Witchwood. John and Xander exchanged a look of wariness as they followed Emma, still clutching Tim tightly to the large vault door, which fortunately was open. 

“Why does he have a bank vault door for his greenhouse?” Xander wondered aloud, studying the walls of ivy intently, taking in every single detail as if he were inside a weird lab...which, in a way, he was. 

Emma shrugged, clearly focused on saving Tim and getting them to their appropriate homes, “Who cares? The guy’s insane.” 

Using her free hand, Emma hauled the door open, leading Xander and John into a dusty foyer with beautiful marble pillars and dramatic black and white checkered tiling. The home was obviously massive and beautiful as they moved deeper into the building, admiring the dramatically-posed marble statues and old looking portraits which appeared to capture scenes from various plays. 

As Emma led them deeper into the grim-looking house, leading them into what appeared to be a sitting room that was furnished with lovely and expensive-looking green furniture, John took note of an elegant marble staircase in the front foyer and massive windows that stretched nearly up the height of the high ceilings of the building itself, shrouded in silvery-grey drapery that shimmered when the light touched it. It was obvious that the many crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling hadn’t been dusted for a while, and the many plants and floral arrangements that lined side tables and shelves had died off. Clearly, they weren’t kidding when they emphasized Hidgens’ knack for drama. 

“Geez,” Xander whispered as Emma led them to a fireplace, “It’s no wonder this guy was a Being from the Black and White….I mean.. _.look_ at this place.”

“Yeah, “ Emma nodded, fiddling with an empty silver flower vase on the mantle with her free hand, propping Tim up as much as she could on her hip, “He had a very... _dramatic_ sense of style.” 

She continued to fiddle with the flower vase until a satisfying _click_ was heard. Almost instantly, the brick back wall of the fireplace slid away, pulling the iron workings and wood away with it. Emma gestured for them to follow as she led them down into a well-lit tunnel. 

“This was the quickest way to his labs,” she explained, “There are several secret bookcases throughout the house, but this one is what I could think of first.”

John was impressed with the many workings of this mysterious house. It would have made a fantastic PEIP base once upon a time. 

“How much money did this guy have?” Xander asked, his voice sounding very confused as Emma led them through a corridor that was lit by white lights, illuminating the way to what they hoped would be their freedom. 

“It was a family home, I think,” Emma muttered, panting heavily as she made her way through the hallways hastily, not stopping to gawk at the magnificent features of the house, “He didn’t have a whole lot of money for himself...especially in these later years, just the house and a weird reputation.” 

“How long has it been in his family?” John asked. 

Emma snorted, “Look, we could spend this whole trip discussing the history of this house, or we could actually be making an effort to get out of here and avoid the fucking apocalypse-” she flinched at her language as they descended deeper into the depths of the house, “Sorry, Tim.” 

“S’ okay,” Tim murmured against his Aunt’s shoulder. 

After a few more moments of traveling through the dark corridor, they came to a large metallic door that Emma pulled open slightly with minor struggling. John went up beside her and helped her finish the job and she went through the door, beckoning for John and Xander to follow. 

As soon as they entered the door, the room lit up with blindingly white light, illuminating the white metallic walls and the various filing cabinets and bookshelves that lined them, outlining several archways that could have led to multiple things. He figured this was a sort of foyer for his basement if that made any sense. 

“This is the entry point for his labs. We can cut through the bar to make it to where the lab with the tunnel is,” Emma hurriedly explained as she hustled over to another door and pulled it open, descending deeper into the house.

Naturally, the basement was just as extravagant as the rest of the house. 

As they passed through a room that resembled an elegant nineteen-forties respectable jazz club, Xander took note of a small stage with a microphone and grand piano. In addition to this, lining the opposite wall, was a large, elegant bar with crystal glasses lining the shelves. Also, in a variety of shapes and multicolored bottles, John took note of several alcoholic beverages and additives that could have made some of the most respectable of cocktails. As Emma lead them through the massive room, John’s feet tapped against the hardwood floor of a full dancefloor around the center of the room, which made John wonder if the house had served as a speakeasy or hooch parlor in the nineteen-twenties, way back when none of Hatchetfield had found prohibition to be agreeable. It _was_ in the basement, after all. 

As they passed from the barroom into the hallway, moving towards what must have been the labs, John began to think. He had seen something emerge from Hidgens’ portal, and something had told him it wasn’t what Hidgens had been expecting. For a moment he thought it looked like…

No. It couldn’t be her. 

Webby was many things, but she abided by the rules of the universe...right?

She’d been the one to instruct them on how to get home, right? 

She was on their side…

Unless…

_No._

He stopped in his tracks as a horrifying thought occurred to him.

Hannah’s words from what felt like weeks ago echoed in his mind. 

_Cheater. Masks. Puppet._

They knew that the Being whose turn in the game was supposed to be was Hidgens, the one who’d stupidly called himself Mask….but who was the cheater?

Webby had stopped talking to Hannah not long after Paul was infected...since then, Hannah was left to interpret her prophecies, judging it solely on what she heard from the Black and White.

Hannah’s words may have made no sense to them but they were not without cause. 

Hidgens had been the one to wear masks, and he’d used Lex as a puppet….but if one of the Beings had cheated in the game…

He thought back to what he’d seen emerging from the portal that Hidgens had drawn up.

From the distance he’d been at, it looked like a white blob...but the red glow higher up had been unmistakable...and the chill that had settled over his bones….it was horrifyingly familiar. 

_Webby was the cheater in this game._

“Shit.” he cursed to himself, causing Xander to turn to look at him as they followed Emma through the blinding white corridor. 

“What is it?” Xander asked, keeping his voice down as not to alarm Emma or Tim.

  
“We’ve been had,” John muttered, ”Webby’s the cheater...and she’s been using Hidgens….” 

“For what?” Xander asked, his eyes widening. 

John shook his head, “I don’t know, but-” 

A loud boom from the world above cut him off, making Emma stop and turn around. They all exchanged looks of terror as the ceiling above them began to rattle slightly shaking with the earth and making John suddenly feel like he was way out of his depth with this case.

“I get the feeling we’re about to find out…” 

\---

 _“We now have unconfirmed reports of explosions going off within the Witchwood forest! Whether or not these have anything to do with the emergency broadcasts from earlier this morning, all Hatchetfield citizens are advised to evacuate to Cliffside Caves, or stay indoors,”_ Donna spoke hurriedly as different staff members of the news team ran around her. Beside her, Dan was combing through his hair and drinking a large cup of coffee. Both of them looked to be in disarray as they made efforts to leave the studio, obviously having obtained some common sense. 

_“Could this be the end of the world?”_ Donna continued, her voice sounding panicked as she pulled on a blazer and dragged her car keys out of her purse, “ _Here at Morning Cup O’ News, we can’t say...so, signing off this morning, I’m Donna Daggit.”_

 _“Oh- That’s amazing- I mean…”_ Dan stammered, his eyes clearly filled with fear as the news team was making efforts to evacuate the studio, “ _And I’m Dan Reynolds.”_

With that, the two of them bolted off-screen and the camera remained trained on the empty news table, making Hannah sink back against the couch. Lex and Ethan sat on either side of her, having not moved since the emergency broadcasts had started. She could tell that they both were scared, having not let go of one another's hands since the evacuation had started. 

The Black and White had gone slightly quieter...making her hear less from it. She couldn’t figure out why. 

Of course, the void of silence was filled with the sounds of all the new people on base and their thoughts. She could hear mixes of frantic thoughts, ranging from ‘where’s my sister’ to ‘will I get my deposit back if the world ends?’, making her feel like things were only about to get louder for her.

  
Why was the Black and White so quiet? 

She wasn’t sure. 

He’d been listening to Hidgens as he made his way to carve the symbol into the tree that would grant him his power back...but after he’d succeeded and the others had luckily gotten away, he’d gone silent. 

She closed her eyes to try and see the clearing again. Trying to picture the trees and the carving that Hidgens was so keen on making in the tree to open a portal...and could see nothing. 

It wasn’t that she thought nothing was there...she could sense something there...she just didn’t know what. 

Whatever it was...it was blocking her.

It was true that Hidgens required the tree itself to make the portal from this plane of existence into the Black and White...but that was only because…

_Pauper destroyed._

The new words echoed in her mind, appearing so clearly and bringing with them the colors of despair and ruin in her mind. She could see flashes of silver and red, like blood on the edge of a knife’s point...yet she couldn’t discern the message's meaning. 

Sometimes her visions were like this, just appearing in her mind in the form of jumbled colors and words. Regardless of what she thought of them, or what sense she made of them, she could tell that this message was not one that would bring joy. 

_Pauper destroyed. Family together._

A flash of several colors appeared in her vision. White blending with shades of lime green and cobalt blue, intertwining with shades of fuchsia, bright yellow, and purple...all of them forming a tapestry in Hannah’s mind depicting scenes that she could hardly reach. She tried to stretch her mind as much as she could, focusing on the specific colors, and the chill that ran up and down her spine as she stared at the colors for longer. She could practically taste the fear and foreboding that danced off of the planes of her mind. 

What was the Black and white trying to tell her? 

_Person in power. Ally. Dangerous. Sabotage. Warning._

She could see flashes of black and dark blue through her mind now, but they rendered differently from the colors of the first warning. Rather than posing a threat from the Black and White, these colors gave her a feeling of...familiarity. Like someone that walked among them was going to do something...something bad. 

She began to squirm, her head was hurting as she comprehended these warnings that she heard so clearly, trying to paint an image in her mind from the colors that she’d been provided with. 

“Hannah?” Lex’s voice provided a sense of calm in her mind, “What’s wrong?” 

She didn’t know how to respond to her sister’s question. What answer could she provide that her sister would understand and help her make sense of? Lex was powerful, yes. Hannah knew that very well. Lex could probably drag something out of the Black and White and use it to defend the universe if she wanted, but Hannah’s mind worked differently. The way things made sense to Hannah didn’t make sense to Lexi. She knew that, and was fine with it….but with this…

The colors continued to circulate through her brain, making her hands fly to her temples as the colors grew in brightness, sparkling in her vision and making stars appear.

“What’s goin’ on, Hannah?” Ethan asked, sounding like he was partially muffled against the noise of the warnings screaming in her brain, “You okay?”

She shook her head and grappled at Lex and Ethan's arms, holding them tightly as she rocked back and forth.

It was too loud.

Too much.

_Something was coming._

_No._

_It was already there._

\---

Paul couldn’t think straight as he ran through the hallways of the base, running for the infirmary. Between leaving mission control in the hands of Rodney, and running into Bill and Alice (and Ted), he could barely keep the facts straight as he made it to the lab section of the building. He ran a hand through his hair and looked for Doctor Hallmark, who was supposed to meet him to help with Tim. 

At the sight of the wiry man, he waved him over frantically not even waiting for him to reach him before taking off in the direction of the tunnel. 

Between worrying about Emma, Tim, John, and Xander, he’d done as best as he could to hurry about everything in getting a doctor and meeting them at the tunnel...and yet, he couldn’t escape the feeling of dread that settled in his stomach. They’d only gotten comms back moments after the others had made it away from the site where Hidgens had been working at the tree, and yet, he still had no idea what had happened when Hidgens had opened the portal. 

The sensor that he carried in his pocket had shown extremely dark purple waves forming over the Witchwoods, indicating that something disastrous was occurring and there was no stopping it. All he could focus on at the moment was making sure the team got home safely and that they would find a way to survive what the sensors were indicating was inevitable.

He could hardly breathe as he led Dr. Hallmark through the hallways, trying to find that same storage closet that he and Emma had located. 

“ _Mr. Matthews!_ ” a sharp voice stopped him in his tracks. 

He turned and saw Colonel Schaeffer standing in the hallway, “Yes, Ma’am?” 

“I require Dr. Hallmark’s services with some of the survivors,” she announced, “And you should be back in mission control.”

“Colonel,” he began calmly, “I don’t have time for this...I need to…” 

She stepped forward in front of the two men, blocking their paths, “You should be focusing on tending to the evacuees, doctor…” 

“Colonel, my nephew needs a doctor,” Paul said as calmly as he could, trying to keep himself from losing his shit with the woman, “He was injured during the mission and needs medical assistance, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t stand in my-”

“As I recall,” the woman said, cutting Paul off and keeping her tone as condescending as possible, “Young Tim Houston is not your nephew biologically, and you have no real authority here...so, Dr. Hallmark, report back to the medical bay immediately, and you can get your nephew there once they've returned.”

Paul was shaking with anger as she looked expectantly at Dr. Hallmark, who looked apologetically at Paul before saluting Schaeffer and turning on his heel. 

“Colonel,” he began, keeping his tone as assertive as he could, “Tim needs medical attention...his eye-”

“Then when they get here, Mr. Matthews,” she cut him off again with a warning glare, “You can escort him to the infirmary yourself, but in the meantime, we have some last-minute survivors incoming who needed medical attention more immediately.” 

“What-what happened?!” Paul said, trying not to sound petulant at her excuse, “What could possibly…” 

“Titans, Matthews,” She said, turning on her heel, “It seems Hidgens opened the door for giants to roam among us...almost looking like a bunch of cartoon stuffed animals walking on earth...wreaking havoc with every step they take. Some potential evacuees were caught in the destroyed Witchwoods while others-”

“The Witchwoods were destroyed?!” he interrupted her, panic building up in his chest as he tried to move past her. 

She nodded gravely, “Yes, and the monsters almost made it to the Cliffside before I sealed off the caves…”

“So...no further evacuation is possible?” he asked, “From the caves, I mean?” 

“That’s affirmative, Matthews,” she nodded. 

“Once General McNamara, Major Lee, Emma, and Tim get back,” he started, a suggestion forming in his mind “We can maybe utilize some of Hidgens’ basement for some of the evacuees and give them lodgings. The whole basement is a panic room in itself.”

“Yes, yes of course...when they return,” She nodded, humming noncommittally in response, “There’s an idea...well, carry on Matthews.”

Despite his fury at the woman, he merely nodded and continued to run in the direction of the tunnels. Tim needed a doctor. Why on Earth would she prevent a little boy who was _injured_ from seeing a doctor? Besides, the infirmary wasn’t that busy when he’d popped in there earlier.

He couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. His prerogative was entirely focused on getting his family safe again. They could get Tim to the infirmary when they got there. Emma, John, and Xander thankfully hadn’t reported any serious injuries, so hopefully, they’d not have to worry about anything other than helping Tim. The PEIP bunker could take a hit, so they were safe...right? They’d just need to take it one day at a time...like everyone was always telling him...If he actually followed that advice, maybe everything would be okay. 

They’d survive this. 

They had to. 

He threw open the door to the storage closet, tripping over 

Everything was going to be okay. 

It had to be. 

\---

“Yes, yes of course...when they return, ” June mused, thinking of any way to keep Paul moving, “There’s an idea...well, carry on, Matthews.” 

In his hurry, Paul quickly rounded the corner and ran out of sight, headed for the area from which she’d just come. 

It would have been a terrible shame if he got caught in the blast...but his death was a luxury they could afford. 

Naturally, she could blame the terrible accident on the tumult in the world above and nobody would question her stepping into the position of General, now that he would have been lost to the collapse. And amidst all the panic and stress induced by such a horrific event, they would readily accept anyone who was ready and willing to be their leader.

She withdrew the small, baton-shaped object from her pocket, expertly concealed from Paul and Dr. Hallmark when she’d intercepted them. Paul was a liability, Dr. Hallmark was not, so severing the two of them and letting Paul continue on his pointless crusade. The small square-shaped timer on the end of the stick read a time of twenty-seven seconds, making her smile. 

Her chance had come to her. 

And by God, she’d taken it. 

She should have felt guilt when she watched the numbers tick by, too slow in her opinion, but all she felt was gratification. She’d taken a chance and she was going to win. There was no way for this to be messed up. As the seconds ticked on by she felt a grin spread across her face...making her feel like she was finally victorious. 

_General June Schaeffer_ , she thought to herself, _Damn, that sounds good._

\---

“It’s okay, Tim,” Emma panted as she set her nephew down on the cave floor, “We’re almost there.”

He nodded slowly, holding a hand to the eye that had mostly crusted over with dried blood, “I can run from here, Aunt Emma.”

“Okay,” she panted, pointing at the tunnel, “Run in that direction, there should be a doctor and your Uncle Paul waiting for you, okay?” 

He nodded again, holding out a hand to take hers, “We’ll make it to him together.”

With a tired smile, she took her nephew’s sweaty palm and began to lead him into the tunnel, the beckoning presence of what would be their salvation calling them home.

They’d managed to find Hidgens lab of evil pretty easily once they’d made it through the endless series of corridors that lead them further down into the Earth. After passing several laboratory areas and storage spaces, in which Hidgens had stockpiled all the necessary means by which he would survive on his own for many years in the event of a world-ending cataclysm, she’d managed to locate the room where they’d found Lex held captive, and where the labs had been destroyed by Hidgens’ wrath. 

Though they’d very obviously lost the fight to the world above, she knew that they had a chance at survival back in the PEIP bunker. There she would be able to return Tim to his father and she and Paul could be together. A doctor would fix Tim’s eye and they’d find a way to keep everyone safe. They had to. At the very least they would be safe and together. 

They were so close. 

Paul was waiting for her on the other end of the tunnel. 

Everyone she cared about was waiting for her. This fact was enough to keep her running, gripping her nephew’s hand tightly as she led him towards what would be their freedom. 

Towards safety. 

Towards his father.

Towards _Paul._

Exhilaration and adrenaline made the pain in her sore legs fade into nothingness as she continued to bolt occasionally looking back to make sure that Xander and John were still following them. Every time she cast a glance over her shoulder, she could see them, keeping a steady pace behind her and Tim, their gazes fearful as they ran and the world seemed to shake around them. 

If they were right in their assumption that Webby had been playing the game into her own hands and advantages, then they were way out of their depth. While she knew next to nothing about Webby, what she knew about Hannah indicated that Webby must have been far more powerful than Hidgens had been...and that she could probably bring the world to its knees a lot quicker than Hidgens ever would have. The idea filled her with an apprehension that made her blood run cold, but she couldn’t bear to think about the future before they’d made it home. 

God, she just wanted Paul. She always felt stronger when he was around. If there was anyone she felt like she could face the apocalypse with, it was him. With him, she felt a drive to survive, unlike the drive that had got her through her rough years in Guatemala, or even her teenage years. It wasn’t the kind of selfish survival instinct that made her want to maintain her own safety. Instead, she sought to sustain more than just herself. She had someone to live for and keep fighting for a better world alongside. He made her good in ways she never expected for herself, and as soon as she was with him again, they would continue to survive together. Only, they wouldn’t be against the world...they’d be trying to keep it alive. 

She glanced down at her nephew who, despite his horrifyingly swollen and bleeding eye, was managing to keep up a steady pace with her, the motivation to keep fighting to see his father again. To be reunited with the rest of a family who loved him very much. Every time she looked at her nephew, she felt her heart swell with pride. The kid was one tough-ass cookie. 

They were about halfway through the tunnel, she estimated...they were so close, she could almost smell the terrifyingly clean disinfectant of the PEIP base hallways.

“You’re doing so good, bud,” she whispered as they kept running, “We’re almost there...everything’s gonna be o-”

_BOOM!_

A loud sound echoed through the caverns, stopping her in her tracks. She exchanged a terrified glance with Tim before looking back at John, who’d gone pale. 

“What was-”

Tim didn’t get to finish his sentence as a small pebble fell from the very obviously shaking ceiling. 

“Oh my God,” John shouted, “It’s a cave-in, _retreat!”_

“ _Tim run!”_ she screamed, dragging him in the opposite direction, pulling him back towards Hidgens’ lab. 

She couldn’t have been more grateful when Xander ran forward and collected Tim in his arms, bolting faster than she’d seen anyone else run for the lab from which they came. 

“Aunt Emma!” Tim cried, reaching out for her as she sprinted behind him, not quite as fast, but keeping up the pace as her heart throbbed painfully in her throat. 

“Go!” she shouted, “ _Just go! I’m right behind you!_ ” 

She ran as fast as she could, panic squeezing painfully at her heart and lungs as she desperately tried to keep up with them, the dust from the collapsing section of the cave brushing against her neck. 

Suddenly, pain smashed into her face as she fell to the ground with a terrified cry. She’d tripped over something. She tried to scramble to her feet, the terrified shouts of Xander, John, and her sobbing nephew motivating her. Just as she began to run again, she was swept off of her feet by a tidal wave of debris, agony suddenly enveloping her whole. 

She could barely hear someone screaming her name as she knew that her leg was snapped and she was being beaten down upon by the collapse of rocks and stones, all of them falling on top of her, trapping her in what she suddenly realized with a terrified clench in her heart would be her coffin. 

If she screamed, she couldn’t hear it.

She could vaguely hear someone else screaming her name, crying out for her as her vision was stolen from her, and weight like lead settled over her body. 

Everything hurt as she fought to stay awake, realizing that only her arm, up until her shoulder remained free of the rubble. 

When the falling stopped and the pain hit her in waves that made her vision red and black, she could feel someone grappling at her free hand with desperate sweaty palms. Tim probably. 

As her energy depleted and her consciousness faded, she could only think one thought. 

_Paul, I’m sorry._

Then darkness embraced her. 

\---

Paul couldn’t feel anything but pain as the scream he could only recognize as Emma’s echoed in his skull, making his heart shatter. 

He could hear it so clearly, almost as if she were screaming directly in his ear, ripping through his body with grief and pain he couldn’t describe. 

Emma was screaming.

It was visceral and loud, and it echoed in his ears, making tears pour from his eyes as his hands cupped over his ears trying to block it out despite what knowledge he had that it would do nothing. 

He could hear her pain and fear so clearly, almost as if he were in the same room as her, right there with her. 

It was filled with agony as the crashing sounds echoed down the mouth of the caverns that had once promised him that the love of his life and her nephew would be returned to him.

Her scream kept going, tearing through his head and making him fall to the ground, bruising his knees as he pulled at his hair, writhing in agony against the cool concrete floor. 

Then it stopped. 

And he could hear her no more. 

He tried to listen for her again. Listen for any indication that the silence meant that she was still alive 

He collapsed to the ground as a scream of his own ripped from his throat, his ears ringing as pain and grief tore through his veins, making his lungs ache as he gasped for air. Dust seemed to coat his lungs as the tidal wave of it, emanating from what he could only assume was a collapse in the caves, washed over him. 

Even when the dust stopped flying and the ringing in his ears stopped, his scream continued as unspeakable pain continued to ripple through him.

The terrifying truth that ripped him apart echoed in his mind as exhaustion claimed him, making the dark spots that danced in his vision expand and dragged him downward. 

Emma was gone. 

\---

This was wrong.

_Wrong. Wrong. Wrong._

This was not supposed to happen. 

Why had this happened? 

Hannah fell forward, panting hard as the sound echoed in her skull. 

One was a cry of fear and pain, while the second, which started not long after was one of mourning. 

No warning she could sense could have prepared her for the twin screams that ripped through her ears. 

Emma’s was silenced long before Paul’s was. 

Both of them falling silent shortly after the thunderous crash in the tunnels ceased. The cacophony falling in volume. 

Still, Hannah could hear Paul’s heartbeat...his rapid desperate breath. 

She couldn’t hear Emma. 

Emma had gone silent. 

Grief filled her heart and she clutched desperately at a very confused Lex and Ethan, murmuring nothing that made sense into the leather material of Ethan’s jacket. She could feel the agony of her cousin...the grief that destroyed him. She couldn’t hear John, or Xander either...nor could she hear her friend, Tim anymore. 

They’d all gone silent, while the world above still descended into hell. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the beginning of the next end, closing her eyes and waiting for the world to begin anew. Emma would be there...safe and sound as she had been the night that Tim’s mother had died. Preparing to travel to Hatchetfield and set the events of the next timeline in motion. 

But it didn’t come. 

The world was still breathing. 

How could that be? 

The pain remained...how was this possible? 

The pain was supposed to go away once Emma fell silent...that was the rule...the rule that had been followed since the resets had been instigated. 

How could-

**_“New rules, little seer.”_ **

The familiar and horrifying voice of the one that had once called herself Hannah’s friend echoed in her ears, sending chills up and down her spine, making her curl in on herself like she was a toddler trying to defend herself from the monsters that lived under her bed. But Hannah was defending herself from the monster that lived in her head.

The monster that had just won the game of an unwilling world.

And all Hannah could think to do was scream. 

\---

The sun was now high in the sky but was blocked out by thick, grey clouds that signified that a light rain was on the way to Hatchetfield. 

Personally, Webby hadn’t seen a more beautiful day. 

She watched as her brothers traversed around the partially-empty streets of Hatchetfield, beaming with the excitement of what had just become their new playground. 

Wiggly had already claimed the minds of a horde of adults, who’d been careless enough to not heed the warnings the puny humans at PEIP had sent out. 

Tinky had taken to sitting in the corner, playing with his box as he rolled it around, like it was a dice, causing the earth to shake around him, muttering something about ‘trying to find the right bastard’. 

Blinky had already laid claim to the inhabitants of an amusement park by the lake, smiling as he grasped control over the inhabitants and employees, taking in every single sight and color for all its glory. 

She hadn’t seen where Nibblenephim had run off to, but she could see that Apatha was conducting a symphony of individuals, whose organs and bodies danced around limply in a masterful dance that she’d choreographed. Webby recognized the song they were singing. It was a song of victory and life. Signifying a life that had begun anew. 

As she stared at the carnage that her siblings had already caused within the first hour of their being present on the Earth, she smiled wildly, the screams of her favorite little seer playing like an accompaniment track to Apatha’s song in the back of her mind. 

The world had once appeared to her as unassuming and weak in her mind, but now it was full of opportunity. 

They would rule from Hatchetfield, of course, but the other continents would fall soon enough. 

After all, now that they all had found their place in the world, there was no stopping them.

All that mattered now was that the whole world was going to fall under the dominion of the Lords in Black. 

She’d won the game and therefore, changed the rules, allowing them to be placed in a world undying. A world where they could win as many times as they wanted. A world where she and her brothers could play all they wanted and rule with the strength of the demons from the deepest hell. 

It was a new world that they were living in. 

These were the end days. 

And Webby smiled, having won the game of the universe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screaming*
> 
> She's FINISHED!!!!
> 
> OKAY so before you guys kill me, the next chapter has information regarding PART TWO!!!!
> 
> Please yell at me in the comments, and let me know what you think if you would like! Any comments and kudos are appreciated, but you're appreciated regardless of whether or not you decide to do so.
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING MY WORK!!!
> 
> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


	46. Authors Note/ Info About Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Info about part two as well as my rambling about how amazing you guys are!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH SHES FINISHED

Hello All!!!

Before I get to the stuff about the second part of this AU (and in case you didn’t see my mentioning it in the post-chapter notes over the course of the last few chapters, there is a second part to this!!), I’m gonna start with a brief ramble that I will try to make quick. 

First off, I just want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH to all of you guys for reading my work. Hopefully this doesn’t sound like false modesty or cringy, but I was really hesitant to post this work at first because I’d never written a fic before. Originally, I was really nervous, but the support that I’ve gotten from you guys has been truly incredible and I am so grateful that you guys have taken the time to read my crap! 

Words cannot describe how much encouragement I got from just watching the hit number rise for this, and there were days when it gave me motivation to write. I know this fic was really long (a lot longer than I originally planned- the google doc on which I’m writing this is 803 pages long), so thank you so much for sticking with it! I really appreciate the fact that you guys have (hopefully) enjoyed this work, and are looking forward to part two. 

Okay, I promise the ramble is over (but seriously, THANK YOU SO MUCH). 

And now for something completely different…

INFORMATION REGARDING PART TWO

The title for the second part of this universe is _Until It Sleeps_ and because I’ve already written and proofread the first chapter, I should start posting that work later today.

This fic takes place three months after the final chapter in this work, and much like this work, it follows multiple perspectives. Below, I’ve included a sneak peek at the first chapter, so I really hope you enjoy!

I’m really excited to be writing this fic series as it has kinda kept me sane over the course of these past few months, and I really hope you guys have been enjoying reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!

Once again, thank you so much for reading my work! I really appreciate all of you, and I hope you enjoy _Until It Sleeps_!

Excerpt from Chapter One of _Until it Sleeps_ (which is really short, but I didn’t want to make it too long since I will probably be posting this later today) _:_

_Every single day passed at an agonizingly slow pace now._

_Each second felt like it lasted hours._

_It was depressing to Paul that he couldn’t remember time passing faster. He’d stare down at the watch they’d provided him with to keep him on pace and watch as the hands made their slow pace around the circle of numbers._

_Not that time mattered anymore._

_Nothing mattered anymore._

_The world had snapped apart and what people that had survived were stuffed into the tunnels to be made soldiers in an unforgiving world._

_August seemed like it had occurred centuries before. The day the world had shattered into a million pieces to bend to the will of a family that came from what might as well have been Hell itself. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen the real sky._

_He dragged himself out of his cubicle when the alarm bell rang out, signaling that their workday was done with a heavy sigh._

_Since John and Xander had joined several of the people whose faces occupied the missing and dead wall, Colonel Schaeffer had taken over PEIP, instilling a strict schedule and a means by which every citizen would be put to work. If rules were not complied with, and curfews weren’t met, there would be issues and consequences._

_He’d thought the new routine was bullshit...why would they attempt to move on in life in these tunnels when so many were missing? Why couldn’t they at the very least try to give some of the people who were missing someone peace of mind?_

_Out of the 2,984 inhabitants of Hatchetfield as of August 27th, 2018, 1,899 were confirmed dead or under the influence of the Beings of the Black and White (so, basically dead), 489 were living in the tunnels under the care of PEIP, and another 596 were missing...Emma, John, Xander, and Tim included._   
  


I know that was rather short, but then again, I will have the actual fix up really soon so...stay tuned!!!

Once again, THANK YOU SO MUCH AND I WILL SEE YOU IN PART TWO!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr: @ShhImAvoidingSleep


End file.
